


You Have Come To The Right Place

by Livdonna



Series: Relief [2]
Category: Sixx:A.M.
Genre: Addiction, Angst, Anorexia, Anxiety, Bipolar Disorder, Bulimia, Depression, Eating Disorders, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Roller Coaster, Gen, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, James goes to ED treatment, Maladaptive Coping, Mental Health Issues, Our poor sons, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Rehabilitation, Self-Destruction, Therapy, this is gonna be a wild ride
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:55:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 101,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26399761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livdonna/pseuds/Livdonna
Summary: "You feelin' comfy, buddy?"I can hear DJ's soothing, yet goofy voice from next to me.  I smirk, as I curl myself tighter into the ball I'm in."I'm fuckin' fried, dude."It hurts to talk a little because of how much talking I've done today, and also because of how raw my throat feels from the chronic purging, but I really want to try to cherish the time I have with these two before they're kicked outta here.I can hear a light laugh coming from DJ, as he pats my back.  "That's why you're here."  He smirks playfully.  "Everyone's gonna help ya, James.  You won't feel so fried from small things forever, I promise."
Series: Relief [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851934
Comments: 62
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> HEY GUYS!!!
> 
> Well... Here it is! I've been wanting to start this sequel for a while now, but I got so caught up in getting my first book "relief" printed! (Barnes and Noble press gives the option to print "personal" books without selling them, and since this was obviously a fanfiction, i couldn't actually sell it...) But, my god, what a magical feeling it is to be able to hold my own writing in solid book form! They did a fuckin' awesome job--- I'm in so much awe!
> 
> Anyway, I'm so excited to finally begin to post this journey... Like I mentioned in the notes for "relief", this sequel is going to really be revolved around the eating disorder RECOVERY process (along with how other people cope with the loved one in treatment.. so all three points of views once again!! ) If any of you are curious about what it's like to be in eating disorder treatment, you will learn a lot and definitely get a gist of it in this first chapter! Like the first book, a lot of this is based off of my own personal experiences so trust me when I say that this shit really does happen in treatment... It can be pretty whack at times (so to say this was slightly entertaining to write would be an understatement!)
> 
> ALSO, as a huge psychology dork and future therapist, you will notice that this chapter starts off with a Psychological assessment on James (oh boy was this FUN to write out!) --- Everything in this analysis of him (except the eating disorder stuff) is REAL stuff that I learned about him by listening to his podcast --- I try to make these stories as real and accurate as possible to the band members and atmosphere so it was really important to me to research this info !! But the assessment is actually a REAL assessment is given by a therapist when you admit into treatment so I thought it was fitting to include it (especially if any one reading hasn't read the first book... it gives a bit of background info!!)
> 
> (i DO recommend reading "Relief" before beginning this if you haven't yet, but you can still read this without it... It will just make more sense if you read the first book!)
> 
> OKAY, enough from me!
> 
> TW: Eating disorders, hospitals, food rituals (if you don't know what those are, you will soon find out!), basic medical stuff!
> 
> ENJOY! <3

_**Patient Name:** MICHAEL, JAMES_

_**DOB:** 09/26/67_

_**Date of Admission:** 12/04/2016_

_**Identifying Information:** _

_James Michael is a forty-eight year old, divorced, Caucasian male with no children. He is six feet, three inches tall._

_**Presenting Problem:** _

_Patient is seeking help at the hospital for severe restrictive and purging behaviors. He claims that these behaviors began in March of this year, as a way to "stabilize moods" and "get in shape" for his upcoming tour with his band, Sixx:AM. He reports restricting food groups, focusing on "health" foods, and excessively exercising. He reports that these behaviors worsened while touring began, and began abusing laxatives and other diet supplements a few months later. He claims that these behaviors caused significant physical symptoms, but he refused to stop. He reports that one night after a performance, he collapsed due to dehydration and low blood sugar, but the behaviors continued. Patient reports that he purged for the first time during a break from touring, after forcing himself to eat pizza in front of his band-mates to prevent suspicions from being raised. He claims that his behaviors spiraled out of control from that night, and his physical and mental state quickly deteriorated during the second leg of the tour. He reports that his severe restriction led to "reactive" binges, which induced feelings of shame, fear, and instability. By October, he was having binge and purge episodes up to three times a day, which caused significant medical symptoms. Patient reports that he lost consciousness after vomiting blood during a binge and purge. He reports that his bandmate, DJ, found him, called 9-1-1, and was admitted to the hospital for acute hypokalemia and irregular heart rhythms. Patient reports staying at the hospital for twelve days, in which his potassium level and heart rhythms were stabilized. He reports that he purged the same night that he got discharged, and that moment led him to seek help. He claims that he "can't live this way any-more" and knows that "there has to be more to life than this."_

_**Psychiatric History:** _

_The patient reports showing symptoms of depression in his early twenties. He claims that he attended outpatient counselling where he was treated for Major Depressive Disorder, which ended being re-diagnosed as Bipolar I Disorder in his later adult life. Prior treatment was ineffective for that reason, and his symptoms worsened. He reports symptoms of erratic moods, including outbursts of anger, irritability, and breakdowns where he "threw and shattered things around the room." Patient reports history of impulsive behavior, such as self-harm behaviors, use of alcohol, and careless spending. Patient reports past and current suicidal ideation; however claims that he is safe and has no plan in place. He reports that he ran into opposing traffic a few months ago, but claims that it was during a manic episode, and there was no intent to harm himself; although now he reports passively wishing that the car had hit him. He reports trouble sleeping, and claims that he wakes up multiple times during the night. He reports that the most sleep he gets per night is about four hours. Patient reports that his bipolar symptoms frighten him at times, but he has grown accustomed to them over the years. Patient denies any significant medical history prior to the development of eating disorder symptoms._

_**Alcohol/Drug History:** _

_Patient reports first use of alcohol at age seventeen. Patient reports that his drinking increased during his twenties, and became excessive. Patient claims that he was using alcohol to self-medicate his Bipolar Disorder symptoms, which at the time were misdiagnosed as Major Depressive Disorder. He reports that drinking made his symptoms worse. He claims that drinking during a "low" made him an "ineffective" person, and led to self-destructive decision making during a "high". Patient reports that he was forty-four years old when his alcohol usage was at its heaviest, and decided to seek help in 2013. He claims that he has maintained his sobriety for three years, with the help of 12-step meetings and the support of his band-mates._

_Patient reports that he has a past history of smoking cigarettes. He reports that he first started smoking when he was thirty-three years old, and his heaviest use was at age thirty-eight at three to five packs a day. He claims that he quit cold turkey in 2007, and hasn't smoked a cigarette since. He considers both quitting drinking and smoking as two of his biggest achievements._

_Patient reports daily usage of caffeine, usually in the form of coffee. He reports drinking up to six cups of coffee a day. He claims that in the past year, he used caffeine in the form of caffeine pills, energy drinks, diet pills, and certain diuretics._

_**Family and Social History:** _

_Patient reports that his childhood was "outstanding". He reports that his father was a painter and his mother was an author; both of which he has "great" relationships with. He reports that he has a younger brother, who he has always gotten along with. He reports that he always felt the need to "make his parents proud" and never wanted to disappoint anyone. He claims that he currently feels a lot of guilt and shame for not investing as much time in his relationships with his family that he feels he should be._

_Patient reports marrying at age twenty-six, after a few years of living in Los Angeles. He reports that the marriage ended in a divorce, due to multiple unresolved communication problems. He reports that he believes his undiagnosed Bipolar Disorder played a huge role in the failure of the relationship, along with his prior drinking habits that only escalated the erratic behaviors. He reports that his unstable moods caused tension in the relationship, so the two were unable to communicate effectively. He reports that his self-destructive behavior scared his spouse, and the two believed a divorce was the most effective solution. The patient reports that he holds many regrets and shame towards the way he has treated people close to him, but that he strives to work on becoming a better person._

_The patient reports having a small group of friends, but admits to isolating himself and has a tendency to "build walls up" around him if someone gets too close. He describes himself as a "very private person" who "doesn't socialize a lot." He reports often feeling uncomfortable opening up to his friends about his feelings, mental health, and personal struggles, in fear of upsetting people. He reports feeling like a burden if he asks others for help, so he keeps most, if not all, of his feelings inside. He claims that he never expresses his feelings or opinions about things to others, and instead preserves a "neutral", non-confrontational image. He reports that he struggles to put his needs before others, and focuses his energy on trying to make everyone around him happy. He considers his "people-pleasing" tendencies to be an "unhealthy obsession."_

_The patient denies any history of trauma or abuse. He denies any legal charges against him._

_**Work and Education History:** _

_The patient currently works as a record producer, sound engineer, mixer, songwriter, and is the lead singer of the rock band Sixx:AM. He reports that his occupation is "nothing but enjoyable" and denies any financial burdens. The patient reports that his perfectionism and mental health have affected his ability to work at times. He claims that oftentimes, he will stay in his studio for "days on end", and often overworks himself to ensure things are "perfect." He reports that he has lost sleep over his work, and has forgotten to eat during episodes of extreme productivity. He claims that a lot of this productivity comes from his mania, and often performs his tasks better at a "high" stage. He claims that he rarely has time for recreational activities because he puts his work as his first priority, and often neglects self-care for the sake of productivity. He reports that his motivation plummets during his bipolar "lows", which make it difficult for him to focus on his work. He also reports that his eating disorder symptoms have made it extremely difficult to concentrate during performances and interviews. The patient reports that he is very insecure about his producing and voice, because he is susceptible to criticism from the media and fan base. He reports that being in the public eye can be stressful at times, and it "forces him out of his comfort zone", especially while he is out touring. He reports that he sometimes feels like an "impostor" for not sharing his opinions or feelings in fear of losing fans or upsetting his fan base._

_The patient reports that he finished high school, and completed a year of college, before dropping out because he considered himself a "bad student." The patient has no military._

_**Mental Status:** _

_The patient appears casually dressed, neatly groomed, and is cooperative. His affect is appropriate to the conversation, and his mood is depressed. His speech is clear. His thoughts flow logically and are organized. He has fair insight into his illness. There is no evidence of hallucinations or delusionary material. He denies suicidal and homicidal ideation as well as thoughts of self-harm. He is oriented to time, place, and person. His memory is intact._

_**Summary Impression:** _

_James Michael is a forty-eight year old, divorced Caucasian male seeking treatment for severe eating disorder behaviors that likely has contributing factors related to his Bipolar Disorder, past addiction history, perfectionistic temperament, inability to acknowledge his feelings, and the stressors of having an occupation in the public eye._

_**Diagnostic Impression:** _

_Axis I: Anorexia nervosa binge purge sub-type (F50.02)_

_Bipolar disorder, current episode depressed, moderate (F31.32)_

_Axis II: no diagnosis_

_Axis III: no diagnosis_

_Axis IV: no diagnosis_

_Axis V: (current) GAF 45_

_**Recommendations:** _

_It is recommended that the patient be admitted to the inpatient program to stabilize him psychologically and physically. He will work with a registered dietitian to identify a healthy meal plan and reestablish a normal relationship with food. He will work with a therapist in individual, family/relationship, and group therapy to identify the underlying issues in his eating disorder and to teach him more appropriate ways to cope with them. He will work with a psychiatrist to find an effective psychotropic medication to decrease Bipolar Disorder symptoms, and support mood stabilization. He will be monitored by a nurse on the unit 24/7 to address any medical issues._

_* * *_

**JAMES'S POV:**

The admission process is grueling... I feel absolutely exhausted, and that's pretty pathetic considering that I hardly did anything. I've been sitting around for hours, but just the process of meeting with staff members and answering what seems like thousands of questions is just draining, especially when they're basically the same exact questions asked over and over and over again.

I got here pretty early. Honestly, everything kind of feels like a blur to me at this point, but I do know that it had to be around 7:00am when Nikki pulled into the parking lot of the facility. I'll be honest and say that I was not expecting the admission process to take this long, and be as chaotic as it has been. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't this.

The minute that the three of us walked through the doors of the facility, we were greeted by a woman who happened to be the admission director. We must have been right on time, because she was ready for us to get started. That caught me off guard. I was hoping I would have a little bit more time to mentally prepare myself, but I didn't. We all introduced ourselves, and I was brought into a room to fill out some basic admission paperwork. One of the first things I was told was that all of the staff were aware that I was being admitted, and they all agreed to sign a confidentiality notice. To be honest, I was relieved, because that was definitely a huge concern of mine. I'm such a private person, and it makes me so uncomfortable even imagining all of this information about my whereabouts being spread to the public. All of the patients agreed to sign the forms as well, and I'm just so grateful for that. 

I'm relieved that the first set of questions didn't take too long, because my focus and concentration has been horrible. It was difficult to even comprehend some of what that woman was telling me, but I think that she understood, considering what I'm coming into treatment for. She was very sweet, and made me feel welcomed and safe. Once we were finished, she gave me a "free meal" pass for the facility cafeteria, and told me to return to the office in an hour for more admission paperwork.

Of course, I immediately panicked inside just thinking about having to eat something, but I tried to remind myself that it's okay if I couldn't handle anything. I don't think anyone was expecting me to be able to, but it was still hard for me to have Nikki and DJ watch me struggle to even drink something when we got to the cafeteria. I know they weren't judging me, but my own shame was spitting out horrible things about myself. It was loud, but I just couldn't handle anything substantial... I was considering trying something that felt "safe", like some kind of protein shake, but the second that I held the bottle in my hands and forced myself to take a sip of it, I felt nausea creeping up from my anxiety, so I had to just wait to see if I could try again when I was calmer.

After a grueling forty-five minutes of my brain going back and forth, and obsessing over if I should try to drink more of the protein shake, DJ realized that an hour had passed, so we headed back to the admission office. Once we got back there, I was given an admission menu. I had to pick an entree, along with a food from multiple other food groups. My head was spinning, and I swear to god, in that moment, I was ready to fuckin' run away, especially because I was still freaking out in the back of my head about the damn protein shake. But, I honestly felt so physically weak, nauseous, and depleted, that I realized even if I tried to run away, I wouldn't get very far. I also had to remind myself that I want to get better, and getting better is gonna be really scary and hard, and I'm gonna have to do things that are very uncomfortable. With Nikki and DJ's support, I was able to fill the menu out, which was for my first two days in treatment. I was told that once I meet with my dietitian, I will be given a specific meal plan for my own needs, and will be taught how to fill out the real menus that are given in treatment. I didn't think that they were different than the admission menu, but apparently they are, and they have way more variety. Basically, filling out the menu itself felt like it took all of my fuckin' energy, but that wasn't all. 

I was brought into another room to do another assessment, but this time it was with a doctor, who turned out to actually be my doctor here. At first I didn't realize that she was actually a doctor, but she is. She's a doctor with a very eclectic sense of fashion... short, semi-spiked red hair, big earrings, and very colorful, patterned suits. If I thought that the first set of questions that I had to do felt like a lot, I was sadly mistaken, because this assessment was a whole different story. First, since this was my "medical admission" assessment, I got my blood drawn, and of course that was an adventure in itself. I'm very dehydrated, so it took a while to get the blood to flow smoothly, and because of how many times I had to get poked, my arm is sore now. Let's be real... my whole body hurts. Who am I kidding? Anyway, after that blood work, I got my vitals taken. They were... not good, and I really shouldn't have been so shocked about that, but I still found myself thinking that the numbers were wrong. My blood pressure was in the 80's, my pulse was 45, and my body temperature was low. Oh, don't let me forget that I had to get weighed too... I mean, of course I was. What was I expecting? I'll be honest... I actually had no idea what I weighed at all, because I never weighed myself during this whole thing. The only way I was able to gauge if I was losing weight or not was based off of what I saw when I looked in the mirror, or what I physically felt in my body. I was told to get on the scale backwards, and I probably would have done that anyway, because I'm not exactly sure if me knowing my weight would necessarily be a good thing in this situation.

After about fifteen minutes of basic medical screening, my eclectic doctor started asking me questions, and I can tell you right now, it felt like it went on forever. They were questions ranging from what brought me here, to my past diagnoses, to all of my medical symptoms, to my work history... Holy shit, I felt like my brain was about to explode. It's not like I didn't know the answers to these questions, but I just couldn't focus. My mind felt so foggy and blurry, and I know that it's because I'm not nourished... My depression is probably playing a huge role in it as well, but it still aggravated me to not be able to feel like a functional human being. It didn't help that all of the questions were so specific either.... I honestly felt like I was telling my whole life story to a complete stranger. I don't know how long that assessment took, but it felt like it was dragging on. Eventually, I was allowed to join DJ and Nikki back in the waiting area. I just plopped myself down on the chair and curled myself up into a ball, because of my exhaustion.

I'm not sure how long I was waiting until I was told that it was time for me to get settled into the actual treatment unit, but before I knew it, me, DJ, and Nikki were walking down multiple hallways to get to the unit that I would be staying on. Dragging my luggage felt so difficult because of how exhausted and weak I felt, and it sort of smacked me in the face how sick I actually am right now.... and how much I really do need help, even if I'm scared.

We were led to a room right in front of the nurses' station, and I was told that because I'm very medically unstable right now, the staff felt it was necessary to have me in constant view of the medical staff. I understand that, but I'm not gonna lie and say that I'm not slightly embarrassed about it. Once we were settled, a care technician did a luggage check, to make sure I didn't have any contraband on me, and took away anything that wasn't allowed, or needed to be locked up. My mouthwash had alcohol in it, so it had to be locked up in a case at the nurses' station, but I'm still allowed to use it. I just need to have a staff member watch me when I do. My phone was confiscated, but I found out that I can gain media privileges when I start completing meals and snacks, and that there are certain times when patients can use their phones during the day. 

Each bedroom has its own bathroom, but they're locked at certain times of the day. I think they said two hours after meals, and an hour after snacks. However, because of my history with purging, and my compromised medical state, mine is locked 24/7, and if I have to use the bathroom, I either have to have the door cracked open, with a staff member standing there, or I have to sing, talk, or count, so the staff know that I'm not doing anything stupid in there.

I was given a short tour of the unit, with DJ and Nikki, after my luggage was checked. It's basically a hospital. It feels a little sterile, but the staff that I've met seem really nice, and to me that's what counts. There's not much on the unit besides our bedrooms, the nurses station, a group room, and the dining room. That doesn't really bother me that much, because I feel like I'm gonna end up staying in my room as much as I can any-way... you know, for privacy. 

God, everything really is so foggy right now. I know I had to do a few more assessments with similar questions, but I can't remember much, besides that one of them was super long... I think it was called a "Biopsychosocial" or something like that, and a therapist asked me those questions, but I don't think she was the therapist that I'm gonna be working with while I'm here. My brain feels so fried, and all I want to do is lay down and do nothing. Nikki and DJ are actually still here, and I'm not sure when they are supposed to leave, but I'm happy they're here, even though I haven't been doing much. I've just been laying on my bed, because I really don't have energy, and DJ has been rubbing my hair. Honestly, it's relaxing, but the issue is that if he doesn't stop I'm gonna end up falling asleep.... but... that sounds really nice right now.

"You feelin' comfy, buddy?"

I can hear DJ's soothing, yet goofy voice from next to me. I smirk, as I curl myself tighter into the ball I'm in. 

"I'm fuckin' fried, dude."

It hurts to talk a little because of how much talking I've done today, and also because of how raw my throat feels from the chronic purging, but I really want to try to cherish the time I have with these two before they're kicked outta here.

I can hear a light laugh coming from DJ, as he pats my back. "That's why you're here." He smirks playfully. "Everyone's gonna help ya, James. You won't feel so fried from small things forever, I promise."

I can't help but giggle at his remark, because from an outsider looking in, I look like I ran a marathon, but in reality, every little thing I do takes so much energy right now. It's kinda sad, actually, but of course I find some sort of humor in it... Man, maybe I've hung out with Nikki for too long now. I'm adopting his sense of dark sarcasm... I mean, when you think about it, I feel like when someone goes through dark shit, you end up seeing the world in a different way, and then you can almost joke about shit that's dark. Sometimes laughing and joking through things feels better than crying about them, you know? It's kind of reminding me of when we wrote "The Heroin Diaries Soundtrack." Having addiction as the main focus of the album felt a bit uncomfortable at times, but we worked through it, and we laughed our way through so much of it. Most people really have no clue how much shit we've joked our way through...

"You know you're a fuckin' bad ass right?" DJ is smiling at me. "You're a real bad-ass for deciding to admit yourself here."

The second that he says that, I can feel a chill shoot up my spine, because even though I realize this was huge for me to come here, I can't help but feel a nervous pit in my stomach, because I'm fuckin' terrified. I'm so scared, but I'm trying to not show that, because I'm a grown man, but inside I feel like a lost kid. I can't say this out loud because I'm embarrassed, but I really am dreading when Nikki and DJ have to leave. I'm dreading it because at least with them here I'm feeling somewhat safe and comforted, just because I'm in the presence of people who I can trust. I know that I'm in good hands when I'm around them, but fuck... I know I'm in good hands being in this hospital, but it's not the same. This is an unfamiliar environment with tons of staff members that I don't know. I'm gonna have to open up to these people, and be vulnerable in front of these strangers that don't even know me, and I'm gonna have to do really terrifying things... I'm gonna have to fight my brain every second of every day, and force myself to do the opposite of what I've been doing for this whole year, and I don't know how I'll be able to handle it... alone.

I know I won't be alone, but just thinking of having to be here without Nikki and DJ supporting me... It's making me feel really uneasy. Even though I'm absolutely exhausted, and have no energy, my mind still has enough energy to race and drive me nuts. Yeah, I'm laying on the bed right now, and I feel like I can fall asleep, but I can't. Now, I can't because my head is loud. The thoughts are loud. The obsessions are starting. The catastrophic scenarios are beginning to flood me, and I can feel my heart racing---

"Hey, James?"

I'm snapped out of my train of thoughts by a woman's voice. I slowly lift my head up from the pillow, and come face to face with who I think is a nurse. She is giving me an empathetic smile, and I notice she has a finger stick in her hand. I immediately feel my stomach churn, and I can feel DJ squeezing my hand.

"Your blood work results came back from earlier, and your glucose level was very low." She pauses, as she looks at the finger stick in her hand. "Your doctor wants me to get another reading, since you got your blood drawn a few hours ago." She looks at me. "Have you eaten anything since then?"

I can feel a hollow forming in my stomach, and if there was any color left in my face, it's probably gone right now. 

I slowly shake my head, no, as I feel nausea beginning to creep up. I'm not an idiot. I know why I'm getting my blood sugar checked, and I also know what's gonna happen if the level hasn't changed or has dropped. 

As much as I don't want to get pricked right now, I decide that avoiding isn't gonna do anything for me, so I just let it happen. The quicker, the better, right?

Even though I've almost become desensitized to the sensation of needles, I still can't help but tense up as I feel my finger getting pricked. I know my dehydration is making the whole process harder, and that's probably why the prick feels more painful than I remember, but god... I hope I'm not gonna have to have this done every day.

I don't even ask what the number is, because I already know it's bad. I feel like shit, and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that my body's levels are so fucked up right now... I feel so tired, that I haven't gotten up from the laying down position yet. I almost feel disconnected from things right now... I'm anxious, yet I feel disoriented. I feel disoriented because things feel foggy, but that little manipulative voice in my head is still distinct.

Despite feeling like I'm in some fucked up kind of dream land, I can still make out DJ's pained face from my peripheral vision. I don't even need to ask if he saw the number. I know he looked at it, and now he's biting his lip, and I just feel like an absolute piece of crap because god... I keep on worrying the shit out of him and Nikki. Part of me is saying that they should have been prepared for things to not be so good medically, but at the same time, being prepared doesn't make things less real. I get it... I know it probably still hurts.... It hurts so much.

I can hear the nurse let out a small sigh, as she puts a hand on my shoulder. I know I should probably try to sit up, but I don't. I don't because I feel the dread. I know I'm not gonna like what I'm about to hear... She hasn't even said anything yet, and I already just want to curl up in a ball and disappear.

"James, I'm gonna have to ask you to either eat or drink something small right now..." I can feel my whole body tensing up, because I knew this was coming. I knew it was coming, but that doesn't make me feel any less anxious about it. "Your level dropped from earlier, and there are certain hospital protocols for situations like this." I can feel DJ rubbing my back, as the nurse continues speaking. "Sweetie, I know this is scary... We normally wouldn't make you do this, but this could be a critical situation if your levels don't rise back up."

"James... Remember..." I can hear Nikki's voice from my other side. "Your brain is spitting out bullshit. It's telling you lies so that you continue to give in to your disease... That's the only goal the addiction has." Now, I can make out his face right next to DJ. "We're right here with you. Listen to the voice inside of you that knows the facts. I know you have a healthy voice, James. It's the voice that led you to get help."

Despite my heart racing, and my head shouting at me, I build up the courage to take a deep breath, and nod. I close my eyes, and rub my face, as I carefully move myself into a sitting position. The second that I do, I feel a wave of dizziness, and have to blink away a few black spots that invade my vision. I can feel DJ's hand on my shoulder, and it helps me steady myself. 

"This is gonna help ya not black out constantly, dude." I can hear DJ take a breath, as he rubs my shoulder. "I know you probably feel like shit right now... Your body needs this." 

I nod my head, and look up at the nurse. "I know..." I lick my lips, and take another breath. "What do I have to have?"

"Well, you have a few choices..." She is giving me a warm smile, as she starts listing off options. "4 ounces of juice, which can either be apple, orange, or grape... A yogurt.... A piece of fruit..." She pauses. "It just needs to be a simple sugar... Something that your body will absorb quickly." 

I'm trying to not show how high my anxiety is right now, but it's high... It's high because all of the choices that she mentioned are the foods that I've avoided for god knows how long. They are the foods that I would do anything to get out of eating... It's pathetic when I think about it, but my fear is very real right now, even though I know I have the huge part of me that wants to get better... It's still hard. It's still scary. The thought of this is terrifying.

"We would almost always recommend the juice, because your body will absorb the liquid quicker than solid food, but it is completely up to you."

I can hear my mind racing so fast right now. It's going in complete circles because every fucking food on that list is scary, and I don't want to have any of them. I don't want to be in this situation right now! There is no part of me that is okay with this, because I can't do it! I can't do it! I can't fucking do it!

I just want to scream. I want to scream to the heavens and I want to run away. I want to ask why I have to do this, and I want to plead with the universe and DJ and Nikki to not make me do this. I want to resist, and I want to fight, and I want to throw a fit, but I don't. I just force myself to sit here, swimming in absolute panic, as I open my mouth and allow the words to spill out, even though I feel like I'm choking on them.

"Juice."

I can feel my body freeze up the second that the word comes out of my mouth, because _oh god... oh god... I just fuckin' agreed to the scariest option of all of them..._

_Why did I just do that?!_

I can see Nikki and DJ's eyes widen, and I'm pretty sure that they're both as shocked as I am at myself right now. I don't say anything else... I'm still trying to let the reality of what I agreed on to sink in.

"Flavor preference?"

I immediately shake my head, because I already know if I were to choose a flavor, a lot more obsessing would be done, and I would honestly rather just get this over with now, so I won't have to deal with it later.

It doesn't take long before I'm face to face with the 4 ounce container of juice. Part of me really feels like I'm about to die right now, but the other part of me is just telling me to drink it quick. For some reason, I'm able to access that part of me, and I can feel myself disconnecting, as I put the container to my lips, and begin to gulp it. I'm so anxious right now, but I've disconnected myself enough to be able to block out most of this experience. I can't even explain it, but I can hardly even taste the juice... I can't taste it, but the feeling of liquid going down my throat is uncomfortable. It's very uncomfortable, but I'm pretty sure the consequences of not drinking it would be a whole lot worse.... That's why I'm sucking it up and doing what I'm supposed to. 

I'm an adult... I can't be non-compliant... and I also really don't want to piss anyone off.

At the same time, just because I forced myself to do exactly what I was told... It doesn't mean that I'm okay... I'm not okay, but I don't want to tell any-one that.

* * *

**_5:30pm_**

I haven't even been here for a full day yet, and I already feel myself regretting my decision to come here... It's not because I don't want help. I do... It's just... This all feels so unfamiliar and scary.

Nikki and DJ left a few hours ago, and ever since then, I've just felt this heavy sense of loneliness. Loneliness and dread. I swear, when they were told that they had to go, I wanted to beg the staff to let them stay. I really did, but I didn't. I couldn't. I know that they're allowed to come here and visit me during visiting hours, but I feel so uneasy right now. I haven't done anything since they've left. I haven't left my room, and I don't want to. I want to stay here, curled up in a ball on my bed. I know I should probably venture out to get to know the other patients, but I can't. I can't get myself to. I'm embarrassed that I destroyed myself enough to come here, and I don't want people to start to think of me as a fucked up person, even though I know I'm fucked up. What if some of the patients know who I am? What if they're fans? Is this gonna destroy Sixx:AM's fan base? My head has been spinning for what seems like forever, and I can't get it to stop. I can't stop ruminating. 

I know the rational solution would be to distract myself by getting my mind focused on something else, like looking through the treatment binder that a nurse gave me, with all of the unit rules, and meal times, and group schedules, but I haven't. I haven't looked at it, and I can feel myself avoiding it. I'm avoiding a lot, because I'm scared. I'm an adult, but I'm scared, but I don't want to show that I'm scared, so I'm just hiding myself in here so no one can see me... well... except the nurses up at the desk.

The sound of the intercom in my room snaps me out of my daze of thoughts. I catch myself jumping a little at the sound of it, because _fuck,_ I was not expecting that.

"Dinner is starting in the dining room."

I can feel the color that's left in my face drain away, as the woman repeats the statement.

"Dinner is starting in the dining room."

I feel like an idiot, because was I really expecting to not have to go? I'm not dumb, but sometimes I think I play stupid as a way to try to avoid things, like this. I can't even get myself to move right now. I literally feel paralyzed, because this is it. This is treatment, and the work is starting right now. It's starting, and I don't want to do this....

I already had to drink juice that no one else had to drink because of my goddamn glucose levels, and now I have to drag myself over to the dining room to force a whole meal down?! Like yes, I know this is what I have to do to get better, but... but... 

_James... James... You have to calm down right now. I know you're freaking out, but you gotta get a grip! You gotta at least walk in there. Even if you don't touch your food, just get in the dining room... You know that a nurse is gonna end up bringing you there if you don't do it yourself._

I don't even remember what I chose on that admission menu... Everything's a blur. It doesn't matter though, because I'm still anxious as all hell and I don't know how the hell I'm gonna be able to hide my anxiety in front of everyone, but here I go...

I hardly have the energy to walk down the hall to the dining room, but I force myself to. I really want to hide myself in the hood of my sweatshirt, but I'm trying to be an adult, so I'm just sucking this up right now. The second that I make it to the door, I have an urge to walk back to my room, but I don't. Instead, I slowly make my way in, and find an empty seat at the table to sit in. 

Once I see all of the other patients making their way around the table, I feel like I'm getting boxed in. I force a smile, and do my best to not show the panic that is bubbling inside of me right now. I don't want to make a fool out of myself, and I don't want to upset any-one... but oh my god... I'm freaking out on the inside.

After a few minutes of everyone settling themselves in, and getting their food trays assembled, a nurse sitting at the end of the table starts speaking.

"We have a new patient here today!" She is smiling real wide, and I can feel everyone's eyes on me. "This is James's first meal here, so let's make him feel welcomed!" She pauses for a second before continuing. "How about we all introduce ourselves!"

It doesn't take long before I learn every patient's name.... Everyone seems really nice, but I don't know if I'll be able to remember everyone's name. Hopefully as the days go on, I will.

I notice the nurse wrote a time on the white board, and I realize that it's the starting time of the meal. Apparently meals here are forty-five minutes... You know what the sad part of this is? I don't know if I'll even be able to eat in that amount of time... In fact, I haven't even started touching the food on my tray yet... I can't stop staring at it, and I can't get myself to begin to unwrap the plastic utensils. I can't even get myself to take a sip of the water that's there, and _fuck my life_ , because there's a minimum fluid amount that we're required to drink for each meal, and... All of this feels like so much right now. 

I know I'm disconnecting from the present because I can hardly hear everyone speaking around me. All I'm focused on is the food in front of me. Broccoli, brown rice, and grilled chicken. This used to be something that was "safe" for me, but here I am right now, panicking over it. It's sad, actually. I never thought my life would have come to this, but it did. It did come to this, and I really am sitting here in the dining room of eating disorder treatment, struggling to get myself to begin eating my dinner.

I decide that I'm gonna have to start eventually, so I force myself to bite the bullet. I take a breath, as I begin to separate the three components on my plate, so they don't touch. It's weird... I never used to eat in such a strange way in my life, yet here I am doing this shit. I used to be able to just eat a piece of broccoli without cutting the damn thing up, but here I am right now, practically dicing the fuckin' florets up... I don't know how long I've been doing this, and part of me is really scared to look at the time, because who the hell knows how much time is left of this meal. 

I suddenly feel a light tap on my shoulder, and I jump slightly. I slowly turn my head around and see the nurse who was at the end of the table.

"Hey, James... Can you try to not cut your broccoli up into such small pieces?"

I immediately feel myself flushing, and if I didn't want to run away enough before... Well, I _definitely_ do now. I'm honestly so fuckin' embarrassed, but I don't want to show that, but... _fuck,_ this is so bad. This is humiliating. 

It was hard enough to try to eat while doing the rituals with my food, but at least I felt slightly more comfortable... Now, I'm being asked to try to eat without doing that. I literally... can't. It's like... I forgot how to eat like a normal person, and for some reason, the thought of having to eat without cutting everything up is paralyzing to me. I can't do it. I just feel even more tense than I did before, and I can't even move. At least I was actually touching the broccoli a minute ago, but now I can't. I can't attempt this if I have to do it normally.

In the midst of my head spinning with resistant thoughts about not being able to eat like a normal fuckin' person, I begin to make out a list of dining room rules on the whiteboard. My vision isn't completely clear right now, but what I can read is making me feel like I'm in some sort of fucked up, crazy dream.

_No excessive cutting, tearing, stirring, or mixing of food (three items mixed together maximum)_

_No removing crust on sandwiches; no cream cheese sandwiches; no salad dressings on sandwiches; chicken breast may not be made into a sandwich_

Uhm... The last time I checked, chicken sandwiches were considered normal, but...okay.

_No honey or sugar in yogurt_

_Sandwiches, muffins, and bagels may only be cut in half once. Do not pull sandwiches apart_

Fuck... I always tear sandwiches apart if I eat them.

_Apples may be cut into fourths; hard boiled eggs in half_

_Dunking of foods in your beverages is not allowed._

Wait, do they mean cookies? We can't dunk cookies in milk? What?!?!?

_No blotting food with napkins - You will be marked INCOMPLETE._

_You will be asked to "scrape your plate" if any food is left behind_

Wow... You're in really good hands, James! Way to go! You couldn't even manage a piece of your fuckin' broccoli. A+ work buddy! You're not gonna run into any "scraping your plate" issues here!

_Microwave limit is 30 seconds; cold foods stay cold, and hot foods stay hot; no heating plain water_

_Limit of 2 salt and 2 pepper condiments for each meal_

_No ketchup on chicken breast_

_No cream cheese on apples (peanut butter only)_

These are so fuckin' specific... Who the hell puts cream cheese on apples anyway?

_Yogurt must remain in original container_

I'm not sure what the hell that's supposed to mean, but alright.

_Salad must have dressing_

_No milk in hot chocolate_

_No jelly in cottage cheese_

Honestly, there's probably a lot more than this but I can't even begin to comprehend what the hell I just read. I don't think I've ever seen a more bizarre list of rules in my life.

It's the very moment that I catch myself looking down at my plate of untouched brown rice, chicken breast, and dismantled broccoli, and I hear the nurse's announcement that the meal is over, that I begin to ask myself....

_What the hell did I get myself into?_


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Eating disorder?” I lightly laugh. “Never heard of it.”
> 
> Rachel doesn’t seem fazed at all by my ridiculous sarcastic remark. She’s just looking at me, as I feel myself begin to fidget a little.
> 
> Deep down, I realize I’m using humor to try to deflect right now. I mean, come on... It’s easier to laugh about shit than cry about it, right? Like... I’m sorry, but I’m not comfortable being vulnerable right now. It’s not happening. Sorry. This is what she’s getting from me right now.
> 
> “I mean.... Why am I here? I’m totally fine!”
> 
> “Of course, James! No problems here at all. You’re completely okay! We can just ignore everything til’ the end of time!” She gives me a big thumbs up, and laughs along, but then goes back to seriousness.
> 
> “Okay, but seriously, James, was the therapy for the eating disorder?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was SO fun to write... Get ready to experience more of the wrath and chaos of the first full day of eating disorder treatment! I definitely DON'T miss any of these memories, but man... it is funny to re-live some of the craziness to write this!
> 
> BTW-- James's therapist in this story is based off of one of the best therapists i've ever worked with in my life... (and yes, her last name was actually 'Pancake') -- if she ever reads this story I hope she'll feel honored! LOL 
> 
> Hope you like it!! Enjoy! <3

**DJ’s P.O.V:**

I gotta admit... It was really hard to leave James yesterday.

The admission process is long, and I had no idea what to expect when the three of us walked into the place. I honestly thought that James would fill out some paperwork and be checked in and that would be it... Obviously, my idea of things is skewed beyond belief, and it makes me feel really ignorant, but I guess it’s only natural. How could I have known? I’ve never had to go through something like this in my life, until now.

It ended up being a few hours of what seemed like chaos... I mean, for me and Nikki it didn’t feel too chaotic, but I can’t imagine how James felt after having to do so many assessments and meet with so many people... He looked exhausted, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why.

His body is fried. He’s hurt himself so much that everything is probably all out of whack, and discombobulated. He’s getting help for a reason... a huge reason... I’m not gonna lie. It was tough to watch him just lie around once he was allowed in his room after all of the assessments, but I know he just didn’t have the energy for anything else. Honestly, it makes a whole lot of sense, especially when he got his blood sugar taken and I saw how bad the number was.

I don’t even think James looked at the screen, but I couldn’t help it. It was like a fuckin’ impulse, because of how much I care about him. I thought that if I didn’t peek at it, something would have happened. Don’t ask me why. I know that sounds a little insane, but my anxiety has been so high ever since this whole thing started... I just felt safer knowing. However, I’ll say right now that I didn’t actually feel much better after I looked. The number was horrible. It was in the forties, and I automatically felt a gnawing sensation in my stomach, because I was automatically reminded of the one night that he collapsed after our show. I didn’t want to show it, but I felt a little lump in my throat, because memories like that just feel haunting to me.

Things hadn’t even gotten “bad” yet, but I’m smart enough to know that even from the beginning, damage was being done to his body, and it was showing. So, to say I felt incredibly relieved when I watched him drink the juice is a fuckin’ understatement, but I know that it was probably insanely hard for him to do that.

I’m happy that me and Nikki were able to stay there a little longer until we were told to leave, but I still felt a pit in my stomach knowing that we would have to go eventually.

I know that James didn’t say it out loud, but I could see it in his eyes. I could see the helplessness, and the desperation, and the pain, and the fear that all of the self-infliction has caused. I saw his look of longing once we were told that it was time to leave. James wouldn’t say it out loud. I know him. He didn’t want to show his real feelings outwardly, but I know. I know that he didn’t want us to go.

That’s what made it even harder to leave... It was like his eyes were screaming for us to stay and to not leave him. If I was able to, I would have fuckin’ stayed overnight with the guy, but I couldn’t. I’ll admit that it felt a little like pulling teeth to get myself to walk away. I think Nikki might have noticed, because he had to gently, but firmly, lead me out. Part of me is a bit embarrassed for acting like this since I’m an adult, but I wouldn’t be surprised if other people in this situation act the same damn way!

I guess I just have to keep faith that he’ll be okay. I mean, he’s James. I know what kind of person he is, and I know that he’s overcome a lot of shit in his life, so there’s no reason why he won’t overcome this. I know it’s gonna be a hard, long journey, but I’ll just try to help him through it as much as I can.

~ ~ ~

**JAMES'S P.O.V:**

Last night was, to put it simply, a real shit show.

I was expecting things to be hard, don't get me wrong. I didn't walk into this place thinking that it was gonna be a walk in the park... I was terrified, and I had a true reason to be.

I couldn't manage my dinner. I tried... I tried to eat some of the broccoli, but once I got called out by the nurse at the table on my food "rituals", I froze up and couldn't even attempt anything after that. I know I should have at least tried to drink some of the water, but the thought of any liquid freaks me out just as much as food does, which doesn't even make that much sense, since it has no nutritional value, but it does. The point is dinner didn't happen, and it's not like I thought I would be able to handle it... I just felt embarrassed that everyone had to watch me pathetically stare at my food for forty-five minutes.

I wasn't sure what was gonna happen from there, since I obviously didn't "complete" my meal, but I assumed there would be some kind of consequences. Of course, if I had taken the time to look through the mealtime guidelines in my treatment binder, I wouldn't have been so thrown off guard when my food tray was taken away, and a bottle of Ensure was placed right in front of me.

_Ensure._

I know.... You're probably thinking, _what the hell is Ensure?_ Or maybe you do know what it is but you're wondering why the hell it was given to me. Well... You're not alone. I was just as fuckin' confused.

I've seen Ensure in grocery stores and pharmacies before. It's a nutrition drink... To be honest, I always thought of it being a drink that's given to older people in nursing homes, or critically ill patients who have trouble swallowing solid food, but still need nutrition. They come in multiple flavors --- chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, mocha, butter pecan --- I've never bought it or tried it, and I hadn't ever planned to. I never thought that I would _have_ to.

Well, people do say that there's always a first time for everything, right?

Basically, if I had read the rules in the binder ahead of time, I would have learned that if you don't complete your meals or snacks, you are given a calorie equivalent in the form of Ensure, to make up for the food that you didn't eat. If I had only left a little bit of food on my plate, it would have only been a small amount of the drink. However, since I practically left the full meal on my plate, I was given the full bottle.

Of course, I felt confused and thrown off guard. I just sat there and stared at it. Then I stared at the clock on the wall and the list of forbidden food rules on the whiteboard. I felt so awkward, uncomfortable, and embarrassed. I was told that since it was my first meal here, I wouldn't get penalized for not being able to drink it... but I found out what the consequences will be once I've been here for a few days.

You are allowed a certain number of "incompletes" before certain consequences are put into place. You are marked "complete" if you finish your meal or snack without needing an Ensure replacement. You can still be marked "complete" if you need the Ensure... as long as you finish the amount that you are given to replace the calories that you didn't eat in the food.

The issues arise when you don't finish your food, OR the Ensure that you're asked to drink. If you refuse the Ensure, it's marked as "incomplete" and your dietitian is notified.

_1st incomplete = lose media and cell phone privileges._

All this means is that you won't be able to use your cell phone, laptop, or any other electronic during the hours that they're allowed. 

_2nd incomplete = bed-rest_

Getting put on bed-rest means that you're not allowed to leave your bedroom unless there's a meal, snack, or group that is on the schedule. Apparently it's so we don't expend too much energy... I mean, I guess it makes sense... We're here for a reason, to repair our bodies. I know that part of my treatment here is gonna be to restore weight, so of course I'm gonna be told to "conserve" my energy, especially if I'm not getting all of the required nutrition.

Apparently you'll stay on bed-rest if you continue to not complete. I was told that you're given a few more chances to try to complete on bed-rest. If you still continue to refuse to eat, there is a possibility of a feeding tube, or _nasogastric intubation_. You'll basically get a thin, rubber tube inserted into your stomach, through your nose, which will be hooked up to a pump... and the pump will be attached to a bag of some kind of nutritional concoction...

Honestly, it was extremely overwhelming to get all of this information thrown at me all at once. I'm just really relieved that I'm gonna get a few days to get accustomed to everything before the protocols will be put into place, because I gotta be honest... Just sitting there with the Ensure in front of me felt excruciating. I didn't even drink any of it, but the smell of the rich chocolate made me nauseous.

I didn't do anything else the rest of the night... I was just exhausted, physically _and_ mentally drained, so I stayed in my room until it was time for bed... However, despite my exhaustion and physically depleted state, I couldn't fall asleep. The environment is so new and unfamiliar... I couldn't get comfortable in the bed, and kept twisting and turning. It also didn't help that it's fuckin' freezing in this facility... Part of me knows it might be because I don't have insulation to be able to keep myself warm, but another part of me is convinced that it's abnormally cold in this place! I tried to layer up in multiple sweatshirts, and even asked for extra blankets on my bed, but I still couldn't warm up.

I realized that I just had to give up and succumb to this unfortunate situation, so I just laid there. I had a feeling I wouldn't be able to fall asleep, but my eyes were so fuckin' tired so I closed them anyway. Of course I wished that I could get myself to fall asleep, but I was relieved just knowing that I somehow survived my first taste of treatment and wouldn't have to come face to face with any more food until the morning...

I thought that things would have felt a little less chaotic since the admission day was over. Well, unfortunately... I was very _very_ wrong.

Once I actually fell asleep, which was only for a few hours, and was a very restless sleep, I felt like I was woken up right away. It was still dark outside when a nurse came into my room to take my vitals. I was half asleep and felt so disoriented, but at least I was able to stay lying down for the first blood pressure check. The second that I heard the machine beeping, I got instant memories of when I was in the hospital and my heart monitor would constantly go off. When I glanced at the screen on the machine, I saw that my pulse was 41, and I was asked to stand up very slowly, so the nurse could get the second reading. I wasn't sure why I needed to get my blood pressure checked twice, but I wasn't gonna be a pest and argue about it, so I did what I was told.

Despite standing up slowly, I still felt an overwhelming wave of dizziness wash over me, and my vision almost went completely black. It took longer than usual to blink the black spots away, and I kept my hand on the wall to steady myself. Of course, the nurse immediately showed concern, but I tried to brush everything off the best I could. However, I know that my words didn't really matter in this situation, because the numbers told the real story.

After waiting a minute, my blood pressure was taken again, and I was shocked to see such a drastic jump in the numbers. My pulse went from 41 to 112, but my blood pressure dropped when I stood up. The nurse said that I was "orthostatic" and explained that drastic jumps like this are due to severe dehydration. She also said that dizziness is a result of this, so it made sense as to why I blacked out.

Immediately after vitals, I was given a hospital gown to change into, and was led down the hallway into a room to get weighed. I was told to use the bathroom first, and the door was cracked open to make sure I wasn't doing anything to "manipulate" the weight on the scale. I wouldn't do anything, but even if I was, I was too fuckin' disoriented and exhausted to even care... I had to get on the scale backwards, of course, and I went back to my room.

I thought that I would be able to chill out and attempt to go back to sleep until breakfast... I mean, that's what I was told I could do, and the thought of lying back down felt so nice in that moment... Unfortunately, that is not how things transpired.

I hadn't even been back in my room for five minutes, when I noticed the nurse who had taken my vitals was approaching my door with what looked like a 20-ounce bottle of yellow Gatorade.

I immediately felt a heavy sense of dread once she stepped foot into my room... She told me that because of how orthostatic my blood pressure was, and the extreme dizziness I had experienced, that I was gonna have to drink that bottle of Gatorade. I swear to god, I felt my eyes bug out, and I really thought that I heard her wrong, but she was being completely serious. Apparently this was another protocol that I would have known about if I looked through my binder instead of sulking in my own depressive, lonely misery.

All I wanted to do in that moment was ask why I had to drink it. I wanted to scream and I wanted to argue, because I felt the panic bubbling inside of me just by looking at the bottle. It's not like she asked me to drink a cup, or even half the thing -- No, she said I had to drink the full 20-ounces... at 5:30 in the morning, while half asleep and disoriented...

Rationally, I understand why I was being told to do this. Gatorade has electrolytes, and my body is obviously in desperate need of them right now, but at the same time, I don't understand why it had to be at 5:30 in the morning while my body hadn't even woken up fully yet.

Despite my brain screaming at me to not drink the thing, and my own thoughts about how bizarre the situation felt, I didn't want to come off as the noncompliant, stubborn, resistant patient... I just wanted to lie down and attempt to sleep, and I knew the faster I got this over with, the sooner I would be able to do just that. I blocked out my anxiety the best that I could, and somehow managed to drink the full bottle.

Yeah, I did drink it, but my body physically could not handle it. I felt nausea creeping up as soon as I had taken a few sips of the thing, but I had thought that if I kept myself calm that it would have subsided. Unfortunately, I was wrong, and I'm realizing that it makes sense why I involuntarily brought all of that Gatorade back up... My body has been used to everything coming up the other way, including fluids, and asking someone to drink such a large amount of liquid while they're half asleep at 5:00 in the morning is insane. Even though I knew it was almost inevitable for this to happen, I was still incredibly humiliated, especially because of the shocked expression on the nurse's face. She just stood there and I don't think she knew what to do. I hope that she knew that I didn't get sick intentionally, because I genuinely did try to make an effort, but my body gave me a big _"fuck you"_. Honestly, at this point, I can't even blame it. Look at all of the damage that I've done to it. I've inflicted so much pain onto it. It probably just wants revenge now.

I ended up being let off the hook for that, and went back to bed, but I never ended up falling asleep. I felt nauseous for a while after that, so when I heard the announcement for breakfast over the intercom, I was far from thrilled. I was really contemplating not going -- not just because of the food itself, but also because I just felt fuckin' sick. It was nausea paired with acid reflux... definitely not a delightful combination, along with a pounding headache which could have been from dehydration or just lack of sleep... I don't know for sure.

I eventually was able to drag myself up and into the dining room, and tried my best to mentally prepare myself for the mental torment I assumed would come along with the food being in my face. I sat down at the table and felt my heart beating out of my chest the second I saw the food on my tray -- the food that I forgot I had chosen on the admission menu yesterday. I honestly had no idea that it was even possible to feel so anxious while being half asleep, but apparently it's possible, because I felt it. The anxiety just made me feel disoriented.

I don't know how long I was sitting there without touching my food, until I saw my doctor's spiky red-haired face peek through the door. It took me a while for me to realize that she was there for me, and that I was gonna meet with her. I didn't think that we got pulled out of meals for that, but I'm not gonna lie and say that I didn't feel a bit of relief knowing that I would be able to prolong eating for just a bit...

That's why I'm here now, sitting in my doctor's office. Not trying to be dramatic, but it is definitely way colder in this room than it is in the rest of the facility. I feel like an ass because I'm having trouble focusing, and it's not intentional. I'm just so goddamn tired, my head is pounding, my throat feels raw, and my whole body is aching like an eighty year old. I guess I just feel pretty pathetic -- a pathetic excuse for a human being.

"So James, how was your first night here?"

_Ohhh, it was GREAT!_

_Just DANDY!_

I feel like an even bigger ass for having that response go through my head. I shake it off, and attempt to force a smile, as I curl my body up into the chair I'm sitting in. I clear my throat before I start speaking.

"It wasn't bad." I feel myself internally cringing. "Thanks for asking."

I can already begin to hear my mind start shooting out horrible things about myself and spitting out all of the reasons why I am such a shitty person for lying to everyone, including my doctor.

But, really? Would you have rather had me say everything I'm truly feeling? That would just sound rude, and I don't want to upset or disappoint anyone. I'm trying to put up a good front here. I don't want everyone to think of me as a fuckin' psychopath.

"How'd you sleep?"

She's staring at me with her wide, blue eyes, and I kind of just want to look away, but I'm resisting.

I shrug my shoulders as I rub my forehead, in an attempt to alleviate some of the pain that this fuckin' headache is causing. The lights in this room are probably making it worse, but I'm just trying to suck it up right now. I take a breath.

"Not terrible."

_James, you sound like a fuckin' sarcastic asshole. If you're gonna fuckin' say shit like that then you're better of just not saying anything at all. You piece of shit---_

"Is your head hurting you?"

_Oh fuck._

Of course I want to just straight out avoid showing any pain, but apparently I suck at it...

"A little." I squeeze my eyes shut for a second, as I feel a sharp wave shoot through. "It's really not a big deal though---"

"You're very dehydrated, James." I can see my doctor pulling up some information on the computer. "I'm not surprised that your head is bothering you." She turns her head to face me once again, and this time I can really see her dark, maroon lipstick. It's the same exact color as her suit, which has mini black polka dots on it today... She's one eclectic doctor, I'm tellin' you.

"Heard you had a bit of an incident with the Gatorade this morning?"

I can feel myself flushing immediately after that sentence comes out of her mouth. I was really hoping that the fuckin' Gatorade wouldn't be brought up and that I would never have to think or speak of it again, but... _nope._

I'm honestly just as embarrassed as I was when it happened, and I have an urge to curl myself tighter into the ball I'm in, and just hide myself in my sweatshirt, because _god damn_ \-- I don't wanna talk about this right now---

"I..." I rub my face with my hand as I force myself to speak, even though there's zero part of me that wants to. "I really didn't mean to---"

"I know you didn't, James." I automatically feel relief wash over me as she says that, because I was nervous that she was gonna be angry at me for that. "You're dehydrated... so much so that your body is rejecting fluids." She's staring at me again. "You know that's what is happening, right?"

"If you're not eating enough, your digestive tract is hardly being used. That's because all of your body's functions begin to slow down as a way to conserve energy. It's been trying to keep you alive using the little nutrients that it has. That's all it has to work with, but your body is your vessel. Its goal is to protect you and keep you alive, so it will do anything in its power to try."

I can hardly comprehend anything that I'm being told right now. My mind feels super foggy, but I'm trying the best I can to focus.

"The reason why you had to drink Gatorade was because of your orthostatic vitals." She opens up a draw at her desk and pulls out a yellow medical bracelet. "The nurses forgot to put this on you yesterday, but it's important to keep you on fall precautions until your vitals stabilize." She reaches her arm over the desk to put the bracelet on my exposed arm. I feel even more humiliated when I see the words "FALL RISK" printed around it in bold, black letters.

"We just have to be careful in case you have a dizzy spell like you did this morning..." 

_Man, does this doctor talk a lot._

I nod my head in understanding, as I let her continue. Honestly, I don't even know how long I've been in here now.

"Your electrolytes are a bit of a concern..." I see her reading from a form on the computer, which I'm guessing are my lab results.

"Potassium is low... magnesium too..."

I shouldn't be surprised, but I still feel myself questioning how my potassium is low even though I was in the hospital to get it stabilized... I can also acknowledge that I'm pushing the truth away because of my own shame and embarrassment over what I've done to myself.

"Your blood urea nitrogen levels are high, which indicate overworked kidneys and dehydration..."

_Fuck. My kidneys?_

"Amylase levels are elevated, but that'll go down once you stop purging..."

Despite feeling absolutely exhausted right now, my head is spinning with all of this information being thrown at me, even though I don't know what half of the shit even means.

"Your EKG shows some abnormalities as well, but here's the thing, James." Oh _here she goes with her wide eyed piercing stare again..._

"All of this can be reversed. This doesn't have to be permanent. You have time to repair the damage that's been done, and I know there's a healthy part of you that knows that too." She smiles and winks at me.

"It's not gonna be easy, but you have to allow your soul to lead the way..."

_God,_ I know that she means all of this so genuinely, but I can't be having conversations about "my soul" this fuckin' early in the morning.

"Just take things one day at a time..." She finally stands up and signals for me to as well.

Fuck, I had gotten so comfortable curled up on this chair that now I don't even want to get up. My body feels so weak that it feels like it's taking so much energy just to go from sitting to standing. I honestly just want to go right back to my room and lie down... That's kinda all I've been wanting to do since I've gotten here.

"Listen to your soul, James." My doctor is smiling as she opens the door to let me out. "And remember... stay the course."

_Stay the course?_

I furrow my brows, as I laugh to myself.

_That's a new one._

~ ~ ~ 

**DJ's P.O.V:** ****

Being in James’s house without James just feels.... weird.

It’s not like I’ve never been here alone before, but it’s different. It’s different knowing that he’s not gonna come back. It’s not like he went to grab a coffee from the Starbucks a few minutes away, and that in five minutes he’ll be back here. It’s just me and Rocco, and there’s a sense of eeriness about it that I’m feeling.

James was concerned about who was gonna take care of Rocco when he went to treatment, so of course me and Nikki offered to do it. I mean, we both planned to any-way even if James hadn’t said anything. Even though I’m more of a dog person, I just love that fuckin’ cat! 

That’s why I’m at his house right now. It’s not much that I have to do... Just leave the food out for Rocco, and scoop the litter. Ya know, typical cat things. In reality we don’t have to be here that much, but I kind of just feel like staying... It’s almost like there’s a weird comfort. It feels like I’m close to James because I’m in his house, but at the same time it’s eerie because he’s not here with me. He’s not here, but he’s not gone, and that’s what I have to tell myself.

Nikki hasn’t come here yet today, but he said that he will later, so it’s just me right now. It seems so quiet, and when it’s quiet it is easy to get in my head. It’s also pretty gloomy outside which isn’t really helping the situation... I tried to call James earlier today, but it went right to his voicemail. I’m thinking that maybe I either called at a bad time, or that he can’t use his cell phone yet... I’m trying to not overthink it, but it’s hard. I just hope he’s okay.

~ ~ ~

**JAMES'S P.O.V:** ****

Just when I thought my day couldn’t get crazier, it got crazier... and here I am asking myself, was I really expecting anything less?

I had my first Psychotherapy group, around 10:00am, and it was... interesting. Apparently that’s a group that we have every day, and it’s basically an open group, where we can talk about anything that’s on our minds or bothering us. It’s not a structured group like the others on the schedule, which I finally decided to look at. I felt like it was time to at least skim through the binder that I was given... I’m not gonna say I’m not confused by almost all of the information that’s in it, but at least I gave it a look.

Anyway, the group was an hour long, and it felt like the longest hour of my fuckin’ life. Hardly anyone said anything, and the therapist running it just sat there waiting for someone to say something. Of course, I could have opened my mouth, but I felt uncomfortable. I just got here. I’m not ready to start opening up to these strangers, even though I don’t think they would judge me... I mean, I don’t know if they would, but I’m still not comfortable. Being here is uncomfortable. The whole environment is so different and it’s nothing that I’ve ever experienced before. I just need to say I was so relieved that no one called on me, because I thought that they were going to. I felt weirdly pressured even though no one was talking, but I was so scared that the therapist was gonna ask me questions and put me on the spot. Thank god she didn’t. I don’t think that would have gone so well.

There’s not much free time on the weekdays. I saw on the schedule that we basically have a group every hour. If it’s not a group, it’s a meal or a snack. If it’s not any of those, it’s a session with a member of your treatment team: therapist, dietitian, or doctor. It’s a handful... We’re busy the whole day, and months ago that’s something that I would have loved... I used to always feel the need to do something. It was always hard for me to sit with myself and just not do anything, but now... It’s so different. 

I feel so disconnected from who I used to be because of how much I fucked my body up. It’s not just my body, but my mind... My brain can’t work the right way, and I can’t concentrate on anything. I know I’m here to repair the damage I’ve done, but I’m not feeling so good about it. Things are already feeling hard... I haven’t been able to complete a meal or snack yet, and I know I haven’t been here a full day yet, but still. I have a bad feeling that it’s gonna be a while until I’m able to... It doesn’t help that the current episode I’m having in my Bipolar Disorder is depression. I already have hardly any energy because of my physical state, but that just zaps any last drop of it away from me. If I had a choice, I would just stay in my room all day, but I can’t. I can’t because there’s so many goddamn groups here, and I have no choice but to expose myself to everyone here and it feels so uncomfortable.... It feels _wrong._

It feels wrong because my brain is constantly telling me that I don’t deserve to open myself up to other people, because I’m a worthless person. I don’t want to be a burden to anyone here, so if I’m called on in groups, or course I’m gonna want to avoid talking! I know that sounds bad, because if I want to get better I have to open up and let others help me, but that’s not making the idea of it any easier for me. I _do_ want to get better! I _do_ , but right now I’m having a hard time. I’m having a hard time, but I’m scared to tell people that, even though it’s probably expected since I just got here. I just feel like a piece of shit for not being normal. I’m constantly telling myself that if I wasn’t fucked up, none of this shit would have happened and I wouldn’t be here right now. 

It can go on and on and on and I’m just left with my head spinning and I can’t do a freakin’ thing about it. That’s what’s happening now. I’ve been in my room... avoiding. I don’t know what group is next, and I don’t care. I mean, I do care, but I can’t really focus on that because of my mind going in circles. It’s a little weird... I’m not manic, but my head will still spin, but it’s self-deprecating statements. I wish I could just hide in here and not come out, but I know that’s not happening. It won’t. I haven’t even looked at the time, and I don’t feel like checking the group schedule, because what if it’s a fuckin’ meal that’s next? I almost feel like it’s better to just not know because then I won’t be sitting in anxiety and anticipation... God, I don’t even know what I’m saying any-more. I just.... I don’t want to be here right now.

I can make out the outline of a woman’s body from my peripheral vision, but I don’t want to move, so I don’t. I’m just staying here... Of course I’m begging in the back of my head to not have to talk to anyone right now, but I already know that I’m not gonna be able to get out of this. She’s coming closer to my door, and there’s no way out. I know I’m being a fuckin’ baby right now, but I just want to be alone. That’s all. 

I hear a light knock on my half-opened door, and that’s when I move my head an inch from my bed just to see the woman peek her head through into my room. She looks like she’s in her thirties. 

“Hi.”

She’s staring at me with warm, beautiful brown eyes, and she has a gentle smile. She has shoulder length, golden brown hair, and her voice is soothing, yet direct. She is dressed very casually, almost bohemian, and I notice that she’s wearing a dream catcher necklace.

As a person, I feel like I can be intuitive... I’m usually able to read people and get a feel for their energy before I really meet them, and even though I’m not necessarily thrilled right now, I’m feeling some kind of calming aura from her.

I can’t get myself to say anything, so I just stare back at her from my lying down position. She’s holding a clipboard, and I’m gonna take a wild guess and say that she’s probably my therapist. 

“You must be James Michael.”

I take a breath, as I finally force myself to move my body into a half sitting position. Fuck, everything still hurts and I’m pretty sure I felt a bone crack in my back... I’m embarrassed, especially if she actually knows who I am... She’s just seeing me in such a pathetic state right now, I don’t even know what she’s thinking.

I force a smile, as I nod my head.

“That’s me.”

God, my voice sounds raspy. My mouth is fuckin’ dry, and I know that’s because I’m so dehydrated... I really need to make an effort to at least try and drink my fluids at meals, even if I’m freaked out about it. I feel like shit.

The woman gives me a big smile, as she looks at the clipboard in her hands, and then back up at me.

“My name’s Rachel. I’m gonna be your therapist.”

_Rachel._

I could swear I remember seeing that name in the binder when I looked through it earlier.... I also swear I thought I was seeing things because I’m pretty sure I read that her last name was “Pancake.” If this is the same Rachel... _Oh my god_ , I’m not sure if I can take this seriously right now...

She begins walking into my room, and as she approaches my bed, I try my best to make out the full name on her lanyard.

_Rachel Pancake, LMFT_

_Lead Therapist_

I’m trying hard to not make it obvious that I feel like I might laugh right now. It’s not anything against her.... It’s just... My god, it’s the fuckin’ _irony_ of the whole thing.

“Ready to have session?”

I can’t even answer before she finds a chair in the corner of my room, and moves it so it’s right in front of my bed. I can feel myself cringing internally, only because having a therapy session is literally the last thing I want to do right now. Part of me is wondering... If I said no, would that even fly around here?

I realize I really don’t have much of a choice in this matter so I just suck it up, and nod. 

“Soooo...”. Rachel starts looking through the pile of papers on her clipboard, as she continues speaking. “I know you’re probably so sick of answering questions, but it’s our first session so we have to do the annoying stuff first.” She’s giving me an apologetic look, and she must feel my own cringes. “It’ll be quick. Then we can get to know each other.”

Okay, as much as I really don’t want to do this, I know if I just keep avoiding it’s gonna take longer, so...

“Alright.” I smile. “Ask away.”

“Wellllll.... I already know you’re James...”. She begins writing stuff down on the first sheet of paper. “... and have you ever been in therapy before?”

_Oh god... Again?_

_Aren’t these the same questions I had to answer on all of those assessments?_

I nod slowly, and bite my lip, even though I just want to walk out... I’m not gonna be an asshole. I’m not gonna. This is just part of protocol. It’s not like she actually wants to ask everyone this shit... At least, I don’t think she does.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

_Why do you have to be so damn sarcastic?! James, really?!_

Rachel’s head pops up at my answer and she smiles at me.

“Great.”

_This is gonna be a long session..._

“Was it for your eating disorder?”

_God... Can I just say how much I fuckin’ hate having to acknowledge the real name for this shit?_

_Why eating disorder?_

_W h y ?_

I decide to try to ease some of my own tension and discomfort by cracking a bit of sarcasm.

“Eating disorder?” I lightly laugh. “Never heard of it.”

Rachel doesn’t seem fazed at all by my ridiculous sarcastic remark. She’s just looking at me, as I feel myself begin to fidget a little.

Deep down, I realize I’m using humor to try to deflect right now. I mean, come on... It’s easier to laugh about shit than cry about it, right? Like... I’m sorry, but I’m not comfortable being vulnerable right now. It’s not happening. Sorry. This is what she’s getting from me right now.

“I mean.... Why am I here? I’m _totally_ fine!”

“Of course, James! No problems here at all. You’re completely okay! We can just ignore everything til’ the end of time!” She gives me a big thumbs up, and laughs along, but then goes back to seriousness.

“Okay, but seriously, James, was the therapy for the eating disorder?”

_Ugh... dammit._

I take a breath as I shake my head. I don’t wanna elaborate. God, I really don’t.

“Wanna tell me what it was for, then?”

_Ha ha... no. Not really, but thanks for asking!_

Part of me is _really_ tempted to ask why she’s asking me these questions if she has the answers from the assessments that I took during admission, but I know that would be a wise ass thing to do, and I don’t wanna be rude. I’m just..... _not_ feelin’ this right now.

“Okay, how about this? Do you have any other diagnoses besides your eating disorder?”

_You already know the fuckin’ answer! Stop asking me these questions, please! S t o p !_

“Uhh... yeah...”. I start playing with the yellow “fall risk” bracelet on my arm as a distraction, before I force myself to spit the rest out. “Bipolar Disorder.” I crack a small smile. “Fun times.”

I genuinely don’t think I’ll make it through the rest of this session without sarcasm. So far it’s been impossible.

“Have you ever self-mulitated?” 

_Huh?_

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Have you ever hurt yourself? Self-harmed? Cutting, scratching, biting?”

_Oh, you mean beating yourself up with a butter knife in the middle of binging and purging??? Nah, I’ve never done anything of that sort!_

_Nope!_

_Never!_

I feel a hollow forming in my stomach, because when I was asked about this during the assessments, I didn’t have to go into detail about it... and I definitely don’t want to go into detail about it. Just knowing that I have done stuff like that makes me feel so much shame, and just remembering the specific butter knife incident is making me feel fuckin’ sick, and I _don’t want to talk about this right now._

“Can we...”. I crack an awkward smile. “... maybe _skip_ that question?”

_Did I really just ask that? As if she’s gonna really let you just avoid everything... You’re hysterical, James! You piece of shit—-_

“James.” She’s giving me a look that’s basically telling me to stop being avoidant, which I already knew was gonna happen. I sigh and laugh a little.

“Maybe.”

“I’m... gonna need a straight answer.”

She lets out a lighthearted laugh, which helps ease the tension just a little. I breathe in.

“Okay, fine. Yes.”

Rachel gives me a slow nod, and I can tell she’s taking in my body language right now... I mean, I can’t even blame her. My body speaks volumes... with the way I’m basically hiding in my fuckin’ sweatshirt right now, anyone would know I’m someone who just runs away from things.

“Have you ever had suicidal thoughts?”

_Ohhhh.... god.... why?_

_And I thought the last question was gonna be it._

I’m pretty sure Rachel can sense my discomfort right now, because she’s giving me an empathetic look.

“I know these are uncomfortable questions, but I gotta ask them.” 

I honestly feel like I’m about to jump out of my skin. I don’t know how much longer I can stay sitting here. It’s so hard to get myself to just spit out these answers.

“Mhm.”

The fact that I couldn’t even say a real word really speaks to how much I don’t want to be doing this right now.

“Have you ever acted on those thoughts?”

I can feel myself beginning to disconnect, because of course I’m automatically being reminded of that impulsive decision I made when I ran into fuckin’ traffic, but... That wouldn’t fall into the category of suicidal ideation... right? I was dissociating when that happened and I couldn’t think straight, and I didn’t have any real intention of hurting myself when I did it—-

“Nope.”

_That’s what you’re gettin, Rachel. Please accept that answer because you’re not getting any more from me regarding this subject._

_Can this session be done now?_

“Cool.”

_Uh.... okay?_

After about ten more minutes of answering grueling questions that felt like pulling teeth, and lots of avoidance, Rachel finally opens up the floor to me, even though at this point I really just want the damn session to be over.

“So, what do you wanna talk about?"

_N o t h i n g._

“Given it's your first full day here, I can imagine you probably have something on your mind.” She giggles and puts her clipboard down. “Talk to me!”

“I’m tired.”

_Seriously... Is that all you got?_

“I can see that.” She looks around the room and then back at me. “How are things going? How are meals?”

_Oh they’re great! Fine and dandy Rachel! Not like I haven’t completed one yet or anything... Nah, it’s good! I love dragging myself to the dining room six times a day just to have everyone else watch me awkwardly play with my food and get called out on it every single time! No issues here! We’re doin’ GOOD!_

“They’re fine.”

I’m forcing a smile, but I know Rachel sees right through my bullshit. At this point, I don’t even know why I’m bothering to play games.

She raises an eyebrow.

“Really?”

I answer without hesitation.

“Yeah, they’re great.”

“So, no issues? You’re completing fine? No anxiety?” She’s playing along with my sarcasm and part of me is finding it incredibly amusing. “So, that’s it then? I guess we can just discharge you!”

I’m just about to spit out another ridiculous remark back at her, but she beats me right to it.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a master avoider, James?”

I almost can’t hold in my laugh, because as if that wasn’t obvious from the fuckin’ start... but geez, now I know Rachel is gonna be that person to call me out on my bullshit.

That doesn’t stop me from shooting out one last dose of sarcasm.

“No.” I smile. “Never!”

Before I know it, it’s time to end the session, and honestly... Time kind of goes fast when you’re goofing around and avoiding... 

_As if that’s a good thing, James. Let’s see how much longer you’ll be able to get away with that... Good luck!_

“Thanks for hangin’ out with me for a bit!” Rachel is standing up now, and grabs her clipboard from the ground. “We’ll be meeting every day until further notice, but we’ll talk to you about that in your treatment team meeting, which should be sometime this week!” She smiles, as she lets herself out the door. “See ya tomorrow!”

All that I’m left with after that is the sound of the intercom, and a twisted stomach full of anxiety.

“Afternoon snack is starting in the dining room!”

I already feel myself curling up into a ball of despair and dread, because... fuck.

_I really should have looked at the schedule._


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How’s the food?”
> 
> Ugh god... I can feel myself cringing because that came out wrong. I don’t want to fuckin’ pressure the dude but the way I said that is probably making him feel like I’m poking him with a stick.
> 
> You’re such an idiot, DJ!
> 
> “It’s...”. I can hear James breath in, which just gives me the shivers, because I have a feeling he’s not gonna be straight about about this. “I mean, it’s... it’s fine.”
> 
> What does “fine” mean, James? Do you mean “fine” as in “oh, I’m eating everything so it’s fine!”, or do you mean an avoidant “fine?” 
> 
> My body is beginning to freeze up just a little bit, because now my head is beginning to spin. It’s spinning with questions and scenarios and outcomes... Scary outcomes. Outcomes that I don’t want to think about... Situations that I hope aren’t gonna happen...
> 
> Are you really fine, James?
> 
> Are you, or are you just saying that so you don’t worry us, because I’m fuckin’ worried but I’m trying to hide that right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excited to share this next chapter with you! It's honestly weirdly fun for me to relive some of this weird stuff that happens in ED treatment (of course I never want to go through it again, but I find myself being able to laugh about it now that I'm in such a strong place in my recovery!
> 
> WARNINGS for this chapter:   
> ***eating disorders/distorted thoughts, body dysmorphia, anxiety, dissociation, depression***
> 
> Hope you guys like it! If you have any questions please feel free to ask in the comments because I am MORE than happy to answer!!!!

**JAMES’S P.O.V:**

“So James, tell me, what are some of your nutrition goals for this treatment stay?”

Right now, I’m in my first session with my dietitian. Her name is Eliza, and she looks around the same age as Rachel. So far everyone I’ve met here has been nice, so I’m not complaining, but I just need to say that I’m not feelin’ too thrilled about this right now.

I don’t know why there’s a part of me that’s shocked that talking to a dietitian is part of the treatment here, especially because I was told all of this on my first day, but here I am. Honestly, I think part of me was hoping in the back of my head that maybe I wouldn’t have to, since I had been here for two days and still hadn’t met my dietitian.

Well, today the universe wanted to prove my wise ass wrong.

I was actually in the middle of a group called _Dialectical Behavioral Therapy_ or _DBT_ for short. I’m not completely sure what that actually means because I was having trouble focusing during the introduction when everything was explained. What I was able to get out of it is that the topic was _emotion regulation_ , and we were all asked to draw our emotions. Look, I’m no visual artist... that’s a job for my dad... but I would take a group like that over having to peel off all of my layers to be vulnerable... _trust me_.

Anyway, I was in the middle of drawing a pathetic image of what I felt sadness looked like, when I saw a woman with medium length, straight black hair, and big brown eyes stick her head through the group room door.

The second that she asked for me and introduced herself as my registered dietitian, I knew that shit was about to get real, as if it hasn’t gotten real already. I had to force myself to not run right back to the group room, because I realize that I need to stop being an avoidant little fuck with every staff member that I meet with.

I was led to my room, and Eliza immediately started asking me the same freakin’ questions that Rachel and all of the staff on my admission day did. I understand that it’s important for everyone to know this information, but it’s not like they don’t have it! Can’t they just look in my file or something to find all of the assessments I took?

Despite the slight frustration, I still kept a calm and friendly demeanor as I answered everything. What I did notice was that Eliza was way more interested in asking questions regarding the eating disorder behaviors specifically, rather than all of my psychiatric history and all of that other stuff.

In a weird way, it almost felt more comfortable focusing on the food and nutrition... I actually didn’t feel too avoidant. That’s truly a shock, trust me. It kinda makes sense though, doesn’t it? Rationally, I know the food and behaviors I’ve been engaging in are a distraction from everything I don’t want to deal with, so of course I won’t have any issues talking about that.

I was surprised at how specific some of the questions were though. I was asked about the frequency of each of my behaviors, how many times per day, how many minutes, and so on. I had to describe my binge and purge episodes, the type of food eaten during a binge, and my “vomiting pattern”, meaning was my purging only after a binge, or did I purge after eating a normal amount of food also? I’ll admit that it felt a little more uncomfortable going into detail about that, because of how much shame and disgust I’ve held inside for engaging in those behaviors, but I sucked it up and answered anyway.

When I was asked about exercise, I had to explain how I definitely had an exercise problem, but I currently haven’t been engaging in that behavior because my body became way too weak and physically just couldn’t handle it anymore. Eliza asked me if my body was able to handle it, if I would be exercising now, and I was honest. I would. It’s actually really sad that something so extreme had to happen for me to stop that behavior... otherwise I would have kept going with it.

After all of the familiar questions about my behaviors and how all of this started, I had to tell Eliza which foods are “safe” or “good” versus “unsafe” or “bad”. 

Of course I can list a ton of foods that I won’t eat, and that I’m scared of. Jesus, that list could go on forever. It would be a fuckin’ novel... All I was able to put down for my “safe” foods were protein products, even if I’m not necessarily eating them right now. I had to ask myself, _“James, if you had absolutely no choice in the matter and had to eat something, what would your go to be?”_ It would be protein... God, that sounds so ridiculous... I still wish I knew how I turned into this fuckin’ person.

Honestly, Eliza didn’t seem fazed at all by my answers. She’s probably heard so much of this shit from her clients over the years so I feel like nothing can really faze her at this point. She’s a dietitian. This is what she signed up for, isn’t it?

I don’t know how long I’ve been with her yet, but I just know that I still haven’t answered her question about what my nutrition goals are. She’s probably wondering what the hell is taking me so fuckin’ long, but I really just... I haven’t thought about it. I’m failing miserably at completing meals here, so maybe that should be one.

“Uhh...”. I bite my lip, as I start playing with the fall risk bracelet on my wrist. “I just....”. 

I feel like if I say completing meals as my goal that’s gonna sound pathetic, because that’s something that’s expected of me. It’s expected of me and I’m still not doing it. It’s almost an obvious goal that shouldn’t even have to be written down, and it’s probably gonna make me look really stupid—-

“I just wanna be normal around food, ya know?”

I can’t help but spit that sentence out, and I can feel a slight sense of frustration in my voice, because seriously. I don’t understand how it became so hard to be normal... I miss being normal. I miss not giving a fuckin’ shit about what I eat and don’t eat. I mean, really? Who the hell cares?! Who spends their whole day obsessing over how they’ll get away with not eating, or how they’ll get away with using behaviors, or how they’ll plan their episodes... It’s a horrible way to live!

I can feel my emotions beginning to bubble up to the surface, but I’m doing my best to block them out. If I start getting emotional in front of Eliza right now, I’m gonna be so embarrassed, and I really don’t want this to happen. _Please... Please don’t—_

“What’s “normal” eating to you, James?”

Eliza is giving me a gentle smile, as she looks down at her clipboard and flips the paper over. 

“When you think of normal eating.... What do you think of?”

I blink a few times and take a deep breath, as I fidget around in my seat. 

“I mean...”. I sigh. “Not givin’ a shit... Being carefree...”. I shake my head. “Eating whatever the hell I want without feeling the need to do something to make up for it.”

“I mean... Not having numbers run through my head twenty four seven... Not wasting so much time obsessing over insignificant things!”

Eliza is nodding slowly, and I can tell she’s taking in the information. She smiles.

“Yeah... That sounds pretty normal to me.” She jots a bit down on the paper on the clipboard, but then looks back up at me. “My goal for everyone is to be able to get back to eating intuitively, but that’s a process. It doesn’t happen overnight, and right now, the initial goal for you is to take in a healthy amount of food.”

“Your perception of what a normal amount of food looks like is pretty skewed right now... What we do here is give you a meal plan, but we will gradually increase the amount of calories you are taking in...”

_Wait.... what?_

I can feel my eyes widening slightly, but I’m trying to hide that. I don’t think it’s working.

“I know you’re probably buggin’ out a little, so let me explain why we have to do that.”

“When your body is malnourished, all of the systems begin to slow down as a way to conserve energy... However, once your body gets fed again, it gets really excited, and all of those systems begin to work again!” She’s giving me a huge smile, and lets out a light laugh. “They’re excited because they haven’t had real nourishment in such a long time, and now they know they can resume their normal functions again.”

“Part of this includes your metabolism speeding up, and for someone who needs to restore weight, that’s a big issue.” She puts her clipboard down. “That’s why we’ll have to increase you... It’s usually every few days, or whenever we see your weight hit a plateau.” She breathes in. “In fact, sometimes patients will even lose weight while reintroducing food at first.”

I don’t even know how to react or what to say to this, because I realize I’m really in for a big treat if I can’t even fuckin’ complete what I’m eating now...

“The meal plan that you’re on right now is actually considered “clinical starvation.” The reason why we have to start you off so low is because your body is at high risk for going into re-feeding syndrome, which could be fatal.”

My body suddenly feels frozen, because there’s no way that I heard what I think I heard.

There’s no way that she just told me that the meal plan I’m currently on is considered _clinical starvation_.

There’s no fuckin’ way that’s true.

“Wait...”. I’m trying so hard to not flip out right now. “You’re saying that...”. I can feel a smile forming on my lips and I almost want to laugh because she can’t be serious right now. “You’re saying that the amount of food that I’m being given isn’t.... a _normal_ amount?”

I’m sorry, but how the hell is that even possible?! My perception really must be skewed because I swear to god, when I see the food that I’m supposed to eat, it looks like so much! And the fuckin’ numbers that swim through my goddamn head don’t help the case! Maybe it’s because I’m just not used to eating like this? But, even so? How is that possible?

I’m still sitting here feeling like my eyes are about to pop out of their sockets, because if I can’t even eat what I’m being given now... How the hell am I gonna survive being here?! If I’m gonna be getting increased... More than once... How am I gonna do this?

“You’re not the only client that has that reaction, James.” Eliza is smiling at me, but her eyes are gentle. “Almost every single patient I’ve worked with thought I was lying to them.”

“You’re not used to eating a normal amount of food... It’s been a long time, and your brain has a distorted image of how much food is enough for you.” She picks up her clipboard and scans over a piece of paper for a second. “You’re 6’ 3”, right? And you’re a man. Your metabolism is naturally higher than a woman, and because of your height, you naturally need more calories than the average dude just to maintain your weight.” She giggles. “Then, add the fact that you need to _restore_ weight... You’re metabolism is gonna go into overdrive and you’re gonna need a lot. Your body has a lot of repairing to do, and that’s where most of these calories are going to go at first.”

I can feel my heart beating out of my chest at a rapid speed, and now I’m swimming in anxiety. I can already feel myself starting to overthink and future trip... Oh god... _Oh my god, I can’t do this. There’s no way. There’s no fuckin’ way—-_

“I don’t want you to get stuck in your head about this yet, James.” Eliza’s voice is very soothing, and I bet she can feel my anxiety. “We’re gonna take things one day at a time, alright? Let’s just focus on you completing the meal plan you’re on right now. Nothing else.” 

After a few minutes of Eliza reassuring me that it’s normal to be freaked out by all of this, I’m feeling a little more calm. I wouldn’t say I’m necessarily relieved, but I’m definitely not as anxious. Honestly, Eliza is very sweet and she has this serene energy about her that makes it easy to talk to her, even if I don’t like what she’s telling me.

“Has a diet tech shown you how to fill out your own menus yet?”

I snap my head up at her, in confusion.

“No...”. I furrow my brows. “I guess they’ve been filled out for me?”

“At first we do fill them out for you, but now that you’ve been here for a few days you can start to do it yourself.”

Before I know it, there’s a pile of menu sheets on my bed, and my head is spinning just looking at all of the food choices. 

“Now, I know it looks a bit confusing, but once you get the hang of it it’ll be second nature.” She smiles, as she hands me a flash card with food groups listed on it. There is a number next to each of them. I can already feel my heart racing. 

_Starch_

_Protein_

_Milk_

_Fruit_

_Vegetable_

_Fat_

The only fuckin’ food group out of the six that I’m not completely paralyzed by is protein.... This is gonna be a shit show.

“This is actually the meal plan that you’re on right now... You see those numbers near the food groups? Those are the number of servings of each group that you need per day.” She points to the card. “When you fill out your menu, you just need to make sure that you get all of these _exchanges_ for the day.”

_Exchanges?_

“Exchanges are basically another word for servings. We don’t want you counting calories here, so we use this approach instead. It’s a way for you to see what a balanced day of eating should look like.”

I am so confused right now, and I would almost rather have her fill the fuckin’ menu out for me. I’m really tempted to ask her to, but I doubt I can get away with that, so I just don’t.

Eliza is showing me how to do a sample menu right now, and you would think that by watching someone else go step by step with it would make it seem easier, but it’s not. Now I’m just starting to internally freak out. It’s like my mind isn’t even processing the information... I don’t know how I’m gonna do this. 

God... My head is already filled with numbers twenty-four seven. I don’t need to have exchanges swimming around in there too!

“You’ll have to have these menus filled out by the end of the week, otherwise I’ll have to do it for you, and I _really_ want you to be able to choose your own food.”

_I don’t._

_I don’t, because what’s the freakin’ point?! I’m gonna fill this shit out that I don’t even know how to do, and then I’m not gonna even be able to eat the food I picked! It doesn’t even matter if you choose the food or if I do it, because I’m gonna fuckin’ screw everything up anyway since I can’t seem to get my shit together!_

“Sounds good.”

_Yeah... very genuine, James._

“It was great talkin’ to you! We’ll be meeting twice a week!” Eliza smiles. “If you have any questions about the menus, you can ask during ‘Meal Planning’ group, or if there’s a diet tech around, she will be more than happy to help you!” 

I’m just left sitting on my bed in complete shock... and... slight terror.

I feel like I’m in a whole different world. 

Being here feels like I’m on a different fuckin’ planet.

~ ~ ~ 

**DJ’s P.O.V:**

“How do you think James is doing?”

I can’t help but let out my thoughts to Nikki, who just got to James’s house not too long ago.

“Before you got here...”. I take a breath, as I stretch my arms above my head. “I was just sittin’ in his studio downstairs, and...”. I bite my lip. “I was just thinkin... It’s weird being here without James, ya know?”

“I know that sounds stupid ‘cause it’s not like he’s dead, but, it’s just... it’s weird.” I look down and then back at Nikki. “It feels weird to me, Nik.”

“I’m not surprised you feel like that, DJ.” Nikki lets out a light laugh and pats my back. “This is a situation that we’ve never been in before. It’s new. Of course it’s gonna feel strange at first.” 

I sigh. “I know...”. I shake my head. “It’s just... Sorry.” I’m so fuckin’ embarrassed. I feel like a pussy for being so emotional about this. I’m a man but I’m not acting like one!

“Why are you apologizing?” I feel a playful nudge from Nikki. “What’s on your mind?”

“I just...” I pause. “I know James just got to treatment a few days ago, but I hope he’s okay.”

I shake my head immediately after I say that.

“That came out wrong.” I scrunch my face up in frustration because this happens so frequently... Me not being able to formulate my thoughts without sounding like a fuckin’ child! It’s annoying. “I didn’t want to leave him the day he got admitted, Nik.” I take a breath in and let out a long exhale. “I could just tell how much he didn’t want us to go, ya know?” I look down for a second before continuing. “I know he didn’t want to say it out loud, but I can tell he was scared...”

I can feel Nikki’s hand on my shoulder and he begins rubbing it. It always soothes me a bit when he does that.. I have to admit, he would be a good massage therapist.

“This is gonna be a long journey for him, DJ... I would be concerned if he wasn’t scared.” I can hear Nikki let out a light sigh. “Giving up my addiction was one of the hardest and most terrifying things that I ever had to do in my life, but I can say without a doubt that it is worth the pain...”

“When you get to the other side, that’s when you realize how going through all of those grotesque parts was worth it.”

I smile, because I know that Nikki speaks from the heart about this shit. He was able to get through it, so he knows what he’s talking about.

“You’re right...”. I nod. “I just miss him.” I laugh a little because I feel stupid admitting that since it’s only been a few days, but I’m not lying. “I know it’s only been two days, but god... It’s weird without him.” 

Nikki ruffles my Mohawk, and out of the corner of my eye I can see Rocco making his way into the living room that we’re in. It’s almost like he knows that we’re talking about his dad. I giggle at the thought of it, as I continue.

“I tried callin’ him earlier today but I couldn’t get through...”. I lick my lips. “Maybe he hasn’t gotten his cell phone yet... I just wonder how he’s doin’ with the food...”

I feel my heart sink just thinking of how hard everything must be for him. It just hurts because I want to be there for him, but I know I can’t be with him all the time.

“It’s gonna be incredibly hard at first...”. Nikki is petting Rocco now, who just jumped onto the couch in between us. “I wouldn’t expect him to be able to finish everything yet... It might take a while, but it’s all part of the process.” He smiles as Rocco scents him. “James is gettin’ the help he needs, and the staff know that the first few days are the hardest. They’re supporting him... They know what to do if certain actions need to be taken.”

“But...”. Now, I can feel my head beginning to spin with questions. “What if he’s not eating? I know you said that he’s probably not finishing anything right now, but if his body is already in such a bad state, isn’t it gonna get worse if he doesn’t eat?” I feel my anxiety rising a little bit, and damn... I was feelin’ somewhat calm until now... Fuckin’ catastrophic thoughts! I’m sick of this shit!

“I’m pretty sure there are certain protocols that will be taken if there’s a medical concern...”. Nikki is rubbing my back again, and I know that he can probably tell I’m fuckin’ anxious, and _god_ , he’s probably so sick of having to deal with my panicky ass all the time! 

“There’s medical staff in the facility, DJ. I can promise you that if anything goes wrong, they will be able to detect it... He has a doctor who’s there to address any medical concerns...”

“If he really can’t get himself to eat, there’s something called a feeding tube.” I can see Nikki biting his lip as he says that. “I don’t know if that’s something that’s done there, but I would think if things get to that point, it might be a last resort.”

I suddenly feel sick to my stomach. I know what a feeding tube is, but I’ve never seen anyone with one, and just imagining James being fed through a fuckin’ rubber tube is freaking me the fuck out...

_“DJ...”_

I already know I’ve begun dissociating because I can hardly hear Nikki’s voice any-more.

_“Hey.”_

I can feel my head being lifted up to face him, and of course I want to look away, but I’m trying to face the scary stuff.

_“Listen to me...”_

“I know your head is spinning right now, but try to stay in the present... I know how easy it is to future trip, but James hasn’t even been in treatment for a full two days yet... He’s still getting settled.”

I slowly nod my head in understanding. It’s just fuckin’ hard when there’s this part of my brain that’s just telling me something bad is gonna happen all the time!

“I only mentioned what I did to remind you that any action that is taken is to keep James safe, alright?”

As much as I know Nikki is right, I still can’t fight the parasitical worries that are shooting through my head.

I thought that I wouldn’t be having this anxiety any-more, but I was _wrong_.

It just seems like it’s the same... if not _worse_.

~ ~ ~

**JAMES’S P.O.V:**

_Two days later:_

I wake up every morning with a pure sense of dread. I hate saying that because it makes me sound like I’m throwing a pity party for myself, which is definitely not what I’m trying to do here. I don’t want any pity. I don’t even want sympathy. I got myself in this situation, so it’s no one’s fault by my own... However, just because I acknowledge that I brought myself here, it doesn’t mean everything has been great and I’ve been shitting rainbows.

It hasn’t.

It’s been tough.

I wake up feeling dread because I know what the day ahead of me is gonna entail. I know that the first thing I’m gonna have to face in the morning, besides being woken up at an ungodly hour to get weighed and possibly have to shove Gatorade down my throat, is breakfast. I have no time to mentally prepare myself, unless the announcement over the intercom isn’t accurate, which in many cases it isn’t. We’ll be told that the meal is starting in five minutes, when in reality the food hasn’t even been brought up to the unit yet, so it’s more like twenty minutes... Of course I don’t have any issues with that, but that’s not the point here. The point is that meals feel dreadful. Being face to face with food feels dreadful.

It’s ridiculous. It feels ridiculous to me how hard it is to be able to just eat something. I’ve been here for four days now, and I still haven’t completed a full day’s worth of food yet, and I’m frustrated with myself. I’m frustrated with myself because this is a normal part of life. It’s a normal part of life and I can’t fuckin’ do it. I’ll go into meals and snacks feeling anxious, but have a hope in the back of my head that I’ll be able to manage some of it, or hopefully do better than I did the last time, but it just isn’t fuckin’ working!

Once I sit down and the food is placed in front of me, I feel sick to my stomach because of my own anxiety. I’ll analyze everything for a few minutes before I even attempt to eat anything. I’ll stare at every component on the tray and that’s when the numbers in my head start to go around in circles. The obsessions spiral right away, and it’s not long before I’m lost in a whole new fuckin’ world... far, far away from the room I’m actually in. I’ll begin obsessing about what’s gonna happen if I eat each specific food there. All of the distortions and irrational beliefs I have about these foods just keep getting screamed at by my fuckin’ brain. The noise in my head gets too goddamn loud, and it’s fucked up because it happens just by looking at the food. Without even eating anything, my mind prevents me from being able to. 

I wish I could somehow get it to stop. I want to get it to stop for just one goddamn second so I could attempt to try something... Even just a bite. Sometimes I manage to, but the issue is that everything gets so much worse if I do. Not only does my mind racing become more intense, but those scary sensations within my body start to come to the surface, and I’m completely unsafe in my own skin. In moments like that, all I want to be able to do is escape my body, and pull the skin off of me, but we all know that’s absolutely impossible. It will never happen, so I just feel trapped. I feel trapped and suffocated by my own emotions, my own body, and my own mind.

Before I know it, the meal is over and I’m left with a tray of completely untouched food, or a tray of food that’s been diced up, moved around, and contorted into something very grotesque looking. At least I’m able to say that I’ve been managing to drink more of my fluids... I’ll be honest and say that being able to choose coffee at breakfast has motivated me just a bit... However, I hate to be that person, but the coffee here is so weak it shouldn’t even be considered coffee.

I’m getting off topic, as usual... 

I realize that I’m screwing myself up really bad by not being able to eat. I’m not stupid. I’m here for a reason and I know that this is what is necessary right now, but I’m struggling so much. The worst part about this is that I have trouble opening up about it, even though all of the staff know, since everything is recorded... I just can’t tell them. I’m so uncomfortable being open about things, and it’s not that I’m lying, because I’m not. I’m just not okay when I’m asked to go into detail about things.... I don’t want to upset any-one. I already know my doctor is concerned because she keeps reminding me of the complications that my behaviors have caused, along with the consequences in this program for not completing meals. I get so angry at myself because I wish I could just do it, but I can’t. I can’t do it, and I know that the right thing to do would be to ask for support. I know that, but the shame that I feel inside because of how much I’ve disappointed and hurt others eats away at me so much, and that is what prevents me from asking for help.... even when I’m in fuckin’ treatment.

I catch myself using sarcastic humor to distract from talking about real things in therapy sessions, and Rachel doesn’t hesitate to call me out on it, every fuckin’ time, but that still doesn’t get me to stop. The other day she asked me what some of my barriers to recovery were, and as a joke I said that it was Rocco’s fault, because he is an intimidatingly handsome cat... You should have seen the look on Rachel’s face after I said that. I think she knows that I’m basically a brick wall and she’s really got a complicated case on her hands by having to deal with me.

But, on a more serious note, honestly, being vulnerable feels terrifying and it’s so hard! I have to drag myself out of my room whenever there’s a group, because I don’t want to have to expose myself to everyone and possibly be called on to express my feelings. I don’t like feelings. I don’t like acknowledging my feelings or my emotions because I don’t think I deserve to, especially if so many other people have it way worse than me. I feel fuckin’ selfish if I take up time to talk, so why would I? My self-worth is as low as dirt, and I would much rather hide than take up space. Everything that I’m being asked to do here is the exact opposite of what feels comfortable to me, and that’s why I feel so miserable.

I’m lonely here, and my depression is at an extreme low. On the inside all I want to do is cry for help and show that I’m struggling, but on the outside I’m hiding all of that. I’ll hide in my room, physically, and I’ll distract from my emotions, mentally. I feel lonely, but I don’t reach out to any-one, and just push them away instead; one of my greatest self-sabotage tendencies. 

I can’t count the number of times that I’ve heard my phone ring in my room since I’ve been here, but not once have I gotten up to answer it. There’s the part of me that feels a longing to be comforted, and to feel safe, but the other side of me won’t allow myself to get support. I know that Nikki and DJ have probably been calling me, and I feel like an absolute piece of shit for not reaching out to them, because trust me... I want to see them. I want to hear their voices, and I want their support, but I don’t want them to see me like this. I don’t want them to see me struggling so much... I don’t want to hurt them any more than I already have, so I just don’t do anything.

I really should though... I think I’ll give them a call later on today. I don’t know how well I’ll be able to pretend everything is okay, but I’ll do my best... I just don’t want them to worry. I’m struggling, but I’m okay. I’m in a treatment facility... I literally have staff around me at all times, even when I’m in the goddamn bathroom, which... Can I just talk about this for a second?

Look, I completely understand the reasoning behind that rule. I have a history of purging, and my vitals are really bad right now. They’re scared that I might pass out, or that I’ll purge. I get it, but I just need to express how fuckin’ awkward it is to have someone right outside the bathroom door... It’s not just them standing there, but I’m required to either talk, sing, or count.... even if I’m trying to take a shit! I mean, honestly that’s not happening at the moment... I’m extremely constipated, but having to have a casual conversation while straining so hard from trying to poop is just... not ideal. 

I don’t argue though. I do what I’m told to, even though so much of the time I feel like I’m a 10 year old kid rather than a man in his late forties, because I know there’s a reason for everything and it’s all in my best interest... even if it doesn’t seem like it. I’ll usually stick to just talking, but it’s the most awkward small talk I’ve ever experienced... I just try to keep on that chill, laid back facade... I had a conversation about cats yesterday with a nurse that was monitoring me, so that wasn’t too bad... Sometimes I just can’t get myself to start having a conversation, and I’ve had a few staff members joke around and tell me to sing a Sixx:AM song or something.... Of course in the moment I was very resistant to that idea, but now I’m wondering if maybe I should give that a shot some day... I don’t know though... Singing while trying to poop? Not sure if any one is gonna want to hear that.

~ ~ ~ 

**DJ’s P.O.V:**

_9:30pm_

I'm caught off guard by the loud vibrating of my phone on the end table near James's bed. I'm not really in the mood to talk to anyone right now, but I reach over to grab my phone anyway. When I see the lit up screen, I roll my eyes because I don't recognize the number.

_Fuckin' junk calls._

However, the longer that my phone vibrates, the more I'm beginning to wonder if I should answer the call. The location under it does say Los Angeles... Eh what the hell. It's not like I've been doing anything exciting any-way...

I swipe the bar and answer, with a hint of hesitation in my voice.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me."

The second that I hear the voice on the other end, I feel a huge wave of relief wash over me, as a huge smile forms on my lips.

"James?"

I immediately sit up from my lying down position, and I know I probably sound like an excited kid right now, but I don't care. I've been so fuckin' worried about James, because I haven't heard from him in days... I think I have a good reason to be happy right now.

"NIKKI!" 

I start making my way downstairs to the living room, and I'm met with Nikki's confused expression. I must be beaming with excitement right now.

"What the hell is goin on?"

I can tell Nikki is trying to not laugh at me right now, but he doesn't fuckin' know why I'm so happy. I just stare at him with an excited expression, as I slide the phone on the coffee table and put it on speaker.

"James is on the phone!"

A smile immediately forms on Nikki's face, as he leans over the phone.

"James!"

I can hear a light laugh from the other end. "It's me, buddy."

I take a seat on the couch next to Nikki, as I try to calm my racing mind.

There's so much I want to say, but I don't want to throw everything at the poor guy. I can't help but blurt out the first thing that comes to my mind.

"Dude..." I pause for a moment, trying to contain myself. "I never thought I'd hear from ya!"

I know I sound happy as I'm saying this... I am, but I can still feel a tiny pit in my stomach, just because I'm still not sure why I couldn't get a hold of him.

I shake the thought away the best I could, as I just soak up James's voice. I feel slightly comforted knowing that he's okay. Just hearing him talk is putting me at some kind of ease.

"Yeah..." James lets out a sigh. "I'm sorry about that, man." He lets out a little giggle. "Things are kinda crazy here..."

"Oh man... I can imagine..." Nikki smiles. "I know how rehab goes... It's definitely a little weird at first, but you'll get used to it as the days go on."

"Yeah.... hopefully."

I can't help but feel a tiny bit uneasy, only because I hear the exhaustion in his voice. I'm smart enough to know that James is the person who tries to put up a front for everyone, especially when he's struggling... 

I'm just about to ask how he's doing, but he beats me right to it.

"How are you guys?"

I feel slightly tense, because that's another thing that James really likes to do... _Avoid._

I take a breath to try to calm my nerves, as Nikki speaks.

"Livin' the dream!" He laughs, as he ruffles my mohawk. "We're alright. Rocco's behaving himself... He hasn't been a jackass." 

I can't help but giggle at that, and I can hear James laugh in the background.

"Oh, wow! I guess it's just me, then!"

"No, but seriously. We've been okay." Nikki looks at me. "DJ's been a real piece of work though... He's been tryin' to call you left and right." I can feel my face getting a little red, as Nikki sighs. "I told him to give you time, and that you would reach out when you were ready..."

I immediately cut him off, in an exasperated tone, as I flick his shoulder playfully.

"You weren't gonna fuckin' stop me and you know it!"

I imagine that James is probably rolling his eyes right now... He's so used to us being like this, though so why would he be surprised?

I take a breath, as I lean over the phone.

"How are things with you? Are you doing okay?"

I just feel such a sense of urgency. I want to know what's going on, because I just care, and it's hard not being able to see James all the time now.

I can hear a soft sigh coming from James, followed by a light laugh.

"I'm managing."

"Wanna tell us what that's supposed to mean?"

There's a moment of silence that makes me feel a bit uncomfortable, until James answers.

"I mean... Yeah, I'm okay." 

I have such a strong urge to ask him if he's really okay, but I'm holding back. I'm trying so hard to not show my anxiety, because I don't want James to hear me act like a big baby... I'm already embarrassed about it.

"It's just different here, ya know?" He laughs. "Definitely something I've never experienced before."

"Are the people nice?"

Now, it's becoming harder to keep myself from asking the questions that are flying through my head. 

"Really nice, actually..." There's a pause, until I hear a giggle from James. "And get this... You won't believe what my therapist's last name is..."

Me and Nikki exchange glances, and I can tell that he's just as curious as I am. He immediately smirks.

"Well... Come on... What are you waiting for?" 

"Spill it!"

There's a moment of silence, and the anticipation of finding out such important information is killing me. Luckily, James breaks it before I jump out of my skin. 

" _Pancake_."

I can tell that he's trying super hard to hold in his laugh, but I have a feeling that's not gonna last for much longer.

"Rachel fuckin' _Pancake_." I can hear him breathe in, but it sounds like he's about to burst out laughing. "I swear to god, I thought I was seein' things when I read her name... It's... God, the fuckin' irony!"

Honestly, I'm having a bit of trouble holding in my laugh too, so I don't. I didn't even think Pancake was a last name to begin with, but it just makes it even funnier knowing that this person is working in an eating disorder treatment center...

James must hear me right now because he immediately responds.

"I told you! I had a feeling you would get a kick outta that."

Nikki is laughing too, and I can just picture the smile on James’s face right now... Man, I wish he was here in person so I could see it for real.

I begin contemplating whether or not I should ask James about how meals are going, since that’s probably not what he is going to want to talk about right now, but I can’t help it. 

“How’s the food?”

_Ugh god_... I can feel myself cringing because that came out wrong. I don’t want to fuckin’ pressure the dude but the way I said that is probably making him feel like I’m poking him with a stick.

_You’re such an idiot, DJ!_

“It’s...”. I can hear James breath in, which just gives me the shivers, because I have a feeling he’s not gonna be straight about about this. “I mean, it’s... it’s fine.”

_What does “fine” mean, James? Do you mean “fine” as in “oh, I’m eating everything so it’s fine!”, or do you mean an avoidant “fine?”_

My body is beginning to freeze up just a little bit, because now my head is beginning to spin. It’s spinning with questions and scenarios and outcomes... Scary outcomes. Outcomes that I don’t want to think about... Situations that I hope aren’t gonna happen...

_Are you really fine, James?_

_Are you, or are you just saying that so you don’t worry us, because I’m fuckin’ worried but I’m trying to hide that right now._

I’m starting to disconnect just a bit because now I’m remembering what Nikki told me about a feeding tube... 

“Are ya.... ya know?” I’m trying to keep my voice from shaking, as I spit the question out. “Are you finishing... your food?”

I can tell that Nikki knows I’m starting to freak out a little, even though my voice doesn’t show it... My body language does. I still so stiff, and my eyes haven’t moved from the phone screen. I can feel Nikki’s hand moving slowly up and down the length of my spine.

“Food’s alright, staff’s nice, the groups aren’t bad...”. James laughs. “I’m alright, DJ. I’m okay... It’s been interesting gettin’ used to things here, but I’m surviving...”

I’m just about to ask him what he means by “ _surviving_ ” but he continues speaking before I can.

“There’s a lot of _interesting_ rules here, but I mean...”. James sighs. “They’re all put in place for a reason, right?”

Nikki nods immediately, without hesitation. 

“Definitely.” He closes his eyes. “You might think they’re fuckin’ ridiculous, but everything is being done for your best interest.” He opens his eyes and looks at me. “Everyone’s goal is to help you help yourself, James.”

I can’t help but feel curiosity bubbling inside of me. I wonder what kinds of rules he’s referring to.

“Interesting rules?” I furrow my brows, and laugh to try to ease my festering anxiety. “Wanna... maybe share?”

“Ohhhh.... man... I don’t even know where to start....”. I can hear James clear his throat, before he starts listing off a bunch of what seem like _bizarre_ rules.

My head feels so jumbled trying to process everything he’s saying, but I’m able to make out a few distinct sentences...

_“.... gotta talk, sing, or count while trying to shit....”_

_“.... Can’t dunk foods into drinks... meaning, no sandwiches in soup... no cookies in milk....”_

_“... No cream cheese on apples...”_

I can feel my eyes bugging out of my sockets because those are fuckin’ _weird_ ass rules.

Soon enough, I let out a cackle, and I can feel Nikki nudge my shoulder. He’s giving me a fatherly look of disapproval. I’m just staring at him with confusion, as my body continues to shake with laughter.

“What?!”

“Don’t enable him, DJ! They’re put in place for a reason!”

I can hear James laughing along through the phone speaker.

“Oh come on... Nikki, you gotta admit they’re pretty freakin’ weird.”

Nikki is smirking, but I know he’s trying to play the role of the recovery mentor, even if he genuinely does think they’re stupid rules, he’s not gonna say it because he doesn’t want James to not follow them... 

“They’re... _not_ ordinary....”. It’s so obvious that Nikki wants to laugh, but he’s holding back so hard. “But, they’re in place for a reason, so you gotta comply!”

“I mean, of course no one is gonna make you comply, but if you want to help yourself, you know what you need to do, James.”

“You know I want this, Nikki.” James lets out a sigh. “Even if it seems so far away... I’m gonna try, ok?”

I’m just about to say something, but James beats me to it. 

“Shit, guys, I didn’t realize how late it is. I gotta get off before I get penalized for not being in bed!” He laughs. “It was great talkin’ to ya.... Seriously...”

I automatically feel a hollow forming in my stomach, because my god... I don’t wanna end the call. I really don’t want to end it. Now I’m starting to feel emotional, but I need to be an adult and deal with this.

“We’ll talk to ya’ soon, buddy!” I smile, trying to block out the sadness that I feel. 

“Kick ass, James. Show your fuckin’ demons who’s boss.”

All that I’m left with after that is a lump in my throat, and a gnawing feeling in my stomach.

I look up at the ceiling, close my eyes, and breathe in, and allow a single tear to drip down my face.

I already know tonight’s gonna be a rough one.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You good, man?”
> 
> DJ looks so concerned right now, and it almost feels like his eyes are going to burn a hole into my soul. 
> 
> “I’m alright, D...”. I let out a yawn, as a way to try to ease my panic but it’s not doing much. “It’s just been a long day....”
> 
> I can feel a huge wave of guilt wash over me as I say that, because it’s the farthest from the truth.
> 
> How much longer am I gonna keep saying that everything is okay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s that time of the week again for an update, and I’m as always happy to share it with you!!
> 
> I’m here to put the rawness of Ed recovery out there, but also let’s be real... the shit that happens in treatment is crazy, so I love to add comic relief bits when I can! (And in this story’s setting it works out perfectly!) so I hope you enjoy this! That isn’t saying that things aren’t getting heavy, because that would be a lie... I’m here to show all the layers... from every perspective... :)
> 
> ALSO FYI--- the nutrition group that James goes to was actually a real group that I had in one of the treatment centers I went to... So are many of the other "strange" things that James witnesses... (you'll know what I'm talking about when you get to it ;) ) I'm just sayin, you just can't make some of this shit up.
> 
> WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:  
> **eating disorders, anxiety, body dysmorphia/feeling unsafe in body, implied symptoms of PTSD**
> 
> E N J O Y !!

**Nikki’s P.O.V:**

I think it’s pretty safe to say that this whole situation left scars on all three of us in its own way.

Being forced to watch someone you love and care about go through something so dark and scary is just painful. As the person is destroying themselves, you’re being destroyed and broken down too, even though the addict doesn’t mean for it to happen... It happens.

I’m at ease knowing that James is in treatment, because this is what is going to help him help himself. He’s told me that he wants help, but his brain isn’t nourished enough at the moment to be able to think completely rationally. That’s what the staff there are helping him do. Hopefully they’re helping him access his healthy self until he has the ability to access that part fully without guidance.

James gave us a call yesterday, which was a nice surprise, but I’ll be honest and say I wasn’t necessarily expecting him to. It’s not because I didn’t think he wanted to talk to us... That’s not it. I just know that he might have not felt like he was mentally in the space to reach out to people yet, and you know what? That’s okay.

Recovery is a tough, excruciating process, especially in the beginning stages. James is being exposed to the very things that he’s been trying to avoid for months and years on end, and that’s terrifying. He’s being asked to do the opposite of everything that has become his habitual safety net, and that feels threatening. I remember how horrible it felt at first for me, when I decided to get clean. Of course, I had to deal with the excruciating withdrawal symptoms, but in James’s case this doesn’t apply... In a way, it’s almost the opposite for him.

Avoiding food was what he clung to as his coping mechanism, but he is being forced to face the very thing that scares him multiple times a day. He’s being exposed to it, and the challenge is to not engage in the behaviors that you have urges for. See, the eating disorder and a drug addiction are incredibly similar, but they’re also different. They’re different in the way that you can be abstinent from drugs. However, the thing with James’s illness is that you can’t just cut food out of your life. Yes, you can be abstinent from laxatives, exercise, and purging, but you can’t be abstinent from food.

You can’t live without food, and that’s a fact.

I wouldn’t be surprised if James is having a hard time right now. He’s in the very early stages of recovery and he’s still getting accustomed to the treatment facility. He’s probably exhausted, and I know that his depression is at a bad point right now... That probably isn’t helping the case. I also know that when someone feels vulnerable, they usually want to hide... Their first instinct is to run away, or avoid. Reaching out to others is scary, and I know that for James that is a fact. Even though I know he wants help, and he knows what he has to do, it’s still incredibly hard for him to ask for support.

Of course I do worry and I want to know how he’s doing, but I don’t want to push him. I knew that when he felt comfortable, he would reach out to us, but that was all up to him. Treatment is scary enough already, and I didn’t want to add onto the pressure that he was already feeling.

I can tell that DJ is anxious, and I know that he had been trying to call James, but he wasn’t getting any answers. I’ve been trying to remind him of the same thing; that when James is ready, he would call us.

It was hard though, because I knew he just wanted to hear his voice, but I did my best to assure him that James is okay, even though we can’t see him... I’m not sure how much of what I say helps, but I keep providing support when I can.

Like I said, shit like this leaves scars on everyone who witnesses it, and I think that DJ has a lot of emotions festering from the whole thing. He’ll stay at James’s house longer than he has to, and I know he feels a sense of comfort being there. I’m not judging him. I understand where it’s coming from. Everyone deals with their baggage differently, and right now, this is how DJ is dealing with loss. I know it sounds weird saying loss, but it’s a different kind of loss.

The bond between the three of us isn’t gone, but it feels a bit more distant because of the situation. James isn’t around because he’s in treatment, and it feels eerie for DJ to be in James’s house without him being there. He’s used to seeing him all the time, and I think the fact that he hasn’t been able to reach him has aggravated the already heavy sense of loss. He misses the strong connection. He wants the reassurance that everything is okay, but he’s nervous because he can’t get that if James isn’t reaching out to him.

I know DJ stays at James’s house for most of the day, and I think he might have slept there a few nights also. I don’t know for sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he has. It’s tough... It’s tough to know that he still has overwhelming anxiety regarding James and his well-being, but it’s definitely natural in the situation. I just hope that if it gets any worse that he’ll be comfortable talking to me about it.

I’m always here to listen. I don’t care what your problems are, or what your situation is. Everything deserves to feel validated and supported.

No one should have to feel alone in their struggle.

~ ~ ~

**JAMES’S P.O.V:**

_Day Nine:_

Today was actually a huge deal for me.

After nine days of being here, I finally got myself to complete a full day of eating... I’ll admit that I did have to use the ensure to make up for some of what I couldn’t eat, but I drank all of it, even though the chocolate flavor was so rich that I thought I would get sick... I still did it.

My doctor had threatened the feeding tube on me yesterday. She said that it was gonna have to be done if I didn’t start completing, which I understand, but it honestly scared the shit outta me and I thought to myself, _‘well, fuck... I gotta do this now... even if it kills me.’_

I was already on bed rest for three days because of not completing, but I didn’t really mind it because all that meant was that I wasn’t allowed to leave my room for things other than meals, snacks, and groups, and I would have rather stayed locked in my room any-way... It wasn’t a scary ultimatum... The tube, however, was, and part of me knew that it would come if I couldn’t get my crap together, but just hearing her say it to me really smacked me in the face. I felt my body freeze up when I was in her office and she brought it up, and I kinda just sat there in shock... I knew right in that moment that I had to really somehow channel my healthy self to help me get through what I knew I had to do.

And now, I’m here to tell you... It was excruciating. Even though I know that the meal plan I’m on isn’t even a normal amount of food, it still felt like I was shoving piles of crap down my throat, and my anxiety was so bad that I felt like I was gonna choke, but I didn’t. I had to completely disconnect from my emotions for most of the meals just so I could get through them, but once I went back to my room, I started feeling everything... and it was just horrible.

Every single urge for every single fuckin’ behavior that I’ve ever used popped up, and I had no choice but to just sit with it and fight them. I wanted to crawl the fuck out of my skin, and my body felt dirty, unsafe, and unfamiliar. Everything felt unfamiliar, because I forced myself to do the opposite of everything that I’ve been doing for months.

Not only was it mentally tormenting, but let’s talk about the physical part of it... My body literally doesn’t know how to digest food. I think it forgot how to process it because of everything I’ve done, because I swear... I don’t want to sound disgusting, but it’s almost like it forgot that food isn’t supposed to come up the other way. Remember what happened with the Gatorade that morning? Well... to make a long story short, that almost happened after every meal and snack that I had today... and it felt like hell. It felt like hell, because I already had the urge to purge what I ate, so by my body almost involuntarily bringing it back up, the urges just got worse, but I forced myself to just keep swallowing whatever came up. I can’t even explain how suffocated I felt through that. I just can’t.

I’m so relieved that today is over, but I’m also anxious just thinking about tomorrow, and how I’m gonna have to do this whole thing again and again and again... If I don’t want the tube in my stomach I gotta do it, and I really do want to get better, so I know I have to do this.

At least I’ll be able to use my cell phone since I completed... That’s something to look forward to.

~ ~ ~

_Day Ten:_

_11:00am_

Therapy today was weird as fuck. Rachel was in an exceptionally good mood when she came into my room. I think she knew that I wasn’t feelin’ therapy, but then again let’s be real... When do I actually want to have therapy? Exactly... I _don’t_.

Anyway... She started asking me how meals were, since she’s aware that I’ve started completing. I did admit that it’s been a little rough, but I didn’t go into any more detail than that. Honestly, just the fact that I didn’t say that they were “fine” was a huge deal for me, since I acknowledged how I actually felt. She said she was proud of me for working hard, but then got extra excited for some reason... I wasn’t sure why, until she asked me a question.

_“Hey! Wanna do my favorite exercise ever??”_

You should have seen her face. She got so wide eyed and popped her head up as if someone told her that a flying unicorn was in my room. Of course, when she said _exercise_ , my fucked up brain thought of an actual exercise... like movement, but I would have to be really stupid to think that my therapist was gonna let me do a workout in the state that I’m in...

She didn’t even give me a chance to answer, before she pushed me some more.

_“Huh?? Huh?? Huh??”_

I almost felt like a little kid was in front of me, begging me to play a game with him or something. I literally just sat on my bed, not knowing what to say or how the hell to react. But, get this. You’ll never guess what she did next.

I am not joking when I say that right after that, she started to pant. Yes, you heard me right. _Pant._ My therapist literally starting panting in front of me, like a happy dog. It was only for like two seconds, but those two seconds can’t be erased from my memory. Part of me thinks that it’s just her personally to be goofy like that, but another part of me isn’t so sure...

I really didn’t know what to think. I was honestly trying to process the fact that Rachel had just panted, and was trying to not laugh. I just didn’t understand what she was so excited about, especially when she started to explain what the _exercise_ that she wanted to teach me actually was.

She called them _Eating Disorder versus Healthy Self dialogues_. Basically, you’re supposed to write out a dialogue between the two parts of your brain.... or the two voices in your head. For instance, if that devious voice in my head starts being an ass after I eat something, I could start a dialogue. I would write that thought down, and then channel my healthy self to answer back. Honestly, I feel like I have these dialogues going on in my head all the time, but I’ve just never written them out before. It’s kind of weird seeing them on paper, and it’s especially hard to end on a healthy note, because I’ve been so used to the manipulative side overpowering everything.

~ ~ ~

_9:30pm_

Nikki and DJ showed up during visiting hours earlier today... It was nice, but I’m not gonna lie and say that it wasn’t hard for me to have them see me the way I am right now... I’m so uncomfortable in my body and feel so vulnerable that it’s hard for me to expose myself. I don’t want anyone to look at me, even them. That’s why it had taken me so long to finally build up the courage to reach out to them, even by phone, because hiding away is what feels more comfortable right now... Once I bit the bullet and called them that night, I realized how much I missed talking to them and let them know when visiting hours were, in case they wanted to come. They came the day I told them, and have come a few times since... I really am thankful for both of them, but it’s still hard.

I had to really try to block all of the discomfort away when they came today, but it was hard. I just didn’t want DJ to see me having a rough time. I feel like Nikki would get it, and it’s not that I don’t think DJ would. He gets it, but I just don’t want to upset him. That’s always my fear... I don’t want to scare him any-more because I’ve already scared him so much.

On a slightly weirder note, Nikki brought me a “healing” stone, which is basically just a fuckin’ rock. To say I was a little confused when he gave it to me would be a understatement, and I even saw DJ giving him a weird look... I can tell he was trying to not laugh at him. I’ll admit that I might have rolled my eyes at Nikki too, but I know he didn’t take offense to it... He’s used to our antics, so he probably wasn’t surprised, but... A rock? He told me that I could use it when I meditate, or it could be a “grounding” technique. Yeah... there’s meditation groups here, but I haven’t been getting much out of them since my mind doesn’t ever shut up. It doesn’t matter what kind of meditation it is... mindfulness, traditional meditation, chair yoga...

Yes, I did just say _chair yoga._ That’s a group here... I don’t see why it’s mandatory but it is. You’re basically doing yoga poses sitting in a chair, and if you’re lucky sometimes you can stand up for a few seconds, but you have to hold onto the chair... It’s a bit odd, but I sort of understand the point. I’m too fuckin’ medically unstable to do any other kind of movement, so that’s all I’m allowed to do right now, and this program really stresses the important of mindfulness. The issue is that, like I said, I can’t ever get my mind to shut up, and it’s a lot worse during that group, because my urges to move more are extremely high... The voice screams at me to push harder, and to tense every muscle up more so that I’m expelling more energy, and it’s just not a fun time at all... I have to resist those urges so hard, and it feels like hell. I’m forced to just sit with the anxiety and pretend I’m having a great time. And if that wasn’t enough in itself, I also end up feeling those distorted body sensations, and I’m sucked into _that_ tornado of delusional hell. If I was allowed to skip that group I would, but I can’t... It’s ridiculous, but it also makes that fucked up part of my brain run rampant with things to torture me with.

So, yeah. Long story short, I’m not sure if _mindfulness_ or _meditation_ will ever be added to my list of hobbies. I’m also not sure how a rock would be used during meditation...

I took it though, because I appreciated the gesture. I just don’t know what to do with it... It’s been chillin’ on my end table. Seriously though, even though it seems a little weird, I know Nikki has good intentions. The fact that him and DJ come to visit me in this fucked up situation means the world to me. Even though so much of the time I don’t want to be around anyone, I’m grateful that I have people who haven’t gotten turned away by the shit I’ve done, and that they still give a shit... Of course there’s the part of me that’s still questioning why they care, but I’m trying to push that away, especially when I have them visit...

I’m excited to start using FaceTime on my phone to call DJ and Nikki too... It’ll be nice to see their faces even when they’re not here, and hey, sometimes I might get to see Rocco... Honestly, that would brighten my day even if I’m having the absolute worst day in the fuckin’ world. I would love to see him come up to the phone screen and scent it... Man, I wish I was able to pet him for real, but for now seeing his adorable face will be good enough.

~ ~ ~

_Day Eleven:_

_11:30am_

I’m not exactly sure what I was expecting when I was told that there would be nutrition groups here, but it was _definitely_ not this.

I was just in my room, laying down on my bed, because I didn’t feel or have the drive to do anything else... I’ve been so exhausted and have had no energy at all, so when I don’t have to be around others at meals or groups, I stay locked in my room... Well, I’m not actually allowed to lock my door, let alone close it all the way, because I’m on twenty-four hour observation. It doesn’t help that my room is directly in front of the nurses’ station, so I’m being watched at every moment, even if I don’t want to be.

Anyway, I was just trying to relax and I felt somewhat content, until all of a sudden, the tiny bit of peace that I was experiencing got interrupted by a knock on my half-opened door.

I tried to ignore it at first, hoping that if I did, the person would just go away, but unfortunately, it only did the opposite.

The knocking got louder, and I just groaned and curled myself tighter into the ball I was in. That’s when I heard the person calling my name.

“James! Time for group!”

It was that moment that I realized a nurse was outside my door, and I just felt even more irritated. There was no part of me that wanted to go to another group. There really wasn’t. Honestly, I feel like an ass saying this, but being around people feels like it’s too much for me... I don’t have the mental energy to interact with others... So I just avoid it when I can, but I knew when the nurse came that I couldn’t. She would have ended up dragging me out of my room if I didn’t come out myself.

So, as much as I didn’t fuckin’ want to get up, I somehow found the strength to. It felt like it took forever because of how reluctant I was, but I eventually did. I was curious which group I was getting forced into. Since I knew I had no choice, I was hoping it would be at least somewhat interesting.

Well... I found out it was Nutrition, and all that did was make me want to run right back to my room, because I really didn’t want to spend a whole hour talking about food. It’s bad enough that I have to come face to face with it six times a damn day... I really don’t need to spend more time in groups thinking about it... I’ve gotten lucky, because ever since I’ve been here, I’ve missed Nutrition group, either from being in a therapy session or meeting with Eliza.

Basically, I knew from the second the nurse told me I was going to Nutrition group that it was gonna be a shit show, but now... Now, it’s fuckin’ confirmed.

I haven’t even walked into the room yet, and I already want to fuckin’ run...

I feel like I must be seeing things... because there’s no way that the dietitian running the group just took out five boxes full of fake food... You know, the kind of food toys that little kids play with? Yeah... _that_ kind of fake food.

I catch myself blinking a few times to try to get back to reality, but I’m horrified, because this is reality.

She’s really gonna make us play with fake food.

I can already feel the dread wash over me, as I slowly and painfully drag myself into the group room. The dietician is staring at me with a huge smile on her face, and that’s just making me want to leave even more, but I don’t. I force myself to smile back, even though I just feel like screaming.

“Welcome to Nutrition group, James.” She coaxes me onto a chair, as she continues. “Today we’re doing our food models group.”

I can’t even breathe before I hear cheers of excitement coming from the rest of the patients in the room.

“I know you guys love this group, and we haven’t done it in a while, so I figured we would do it today!”

The dietician, who’s name I already forget, begins explaining the group, as she opens up the first box.

I can’t tell if I want to laugh, scream, or run more. I can’t take this seriously right now... I am _really_ struggling.

I’m just staring at the worksheet that was put in front of me, and I don’t know how this is supposed to help me...

“So, what we’re doing today is guessing the exchanges of foods.” The dietician excitedly begins lining up the food models that were in the first box, which I’m guessing are supposed to be carbs.

There’s a fuckin’ pretzel, some rice, pasta, something that I think is supposed to be cereal but it really just looks like mush—-

My train of thought is interrupted by the dietician’s enthusiastic voice.

“Let’s start with this one right here...” She smiles, as she holds up what looks like brown rice. “What do you think the exchanges are?” There is a pause. “Oh, I forgot to mention... This is for a half cup of brown rice...”

Okay, to be honest, I don’t know the fuckin’ answer because I never used exchanges in my life, until being here... But even so, I still don’t understand them because I haven’t been filling out my menus... It takes too much work and I don’t have the motivation, especially if I feel like I’m trying to read some different language!

I can look at these food models and know the calories in an instant, but exchanges? I don’t even get the point of them. And even if I _did_ have the answer, I wouldn’t say it because I didn’t think it was possible to have a group _this_ ridiculous—

“Do you want to take a guess, James?”

I can feel my eyes widening slightly as soon as I hear my name. Why? Why me? Of all the fuckin’ people in this room, you had to call on me...

WHY?!

_Uhm... no._

_I don’t want to take a guess. Thank you very much for asking. I don’t even want to be sitting through this stupid group right now because I don’t understand how playing with fake food and being treated like a fuckin’ five year old is supposed to help me, but I literally have no choice right now, so I’m forcing myself to smile and pretend I’m enjoying this when I really just feel I am about to fuckin’ walk outta here..._

_So again..._

_THANKS FOR ASKING!_

Everyone’s eyes are on me and I’m feeling weirdly pressured right now. The dietician is smiling at me and she’s still holding up the stupid brown rice...

I decide to just spit out a random answer to ease the awkward tension, even though I really have no clue what I’m talking about.

“Uhh... I don’t know....”. I shake my head and impulsively spit out, “What is it, like 1.5 starches or something?”

I shrug my shoulders and grimace because I probably just made a huge fool out of myself since I don’t know _shit_ about this—

I can’t even say or think anything else before the dietician excitedly gives me a thumbs up.

“Actually, it _is_ 1.5 starches!” She puts down the brown rice and smiles at me. “Nice job, James.”

I can’t even open my mouth to say something, even if I wanted to, because I’m frozen in shock.

W H A T ?!

_How the fuck did I manage to get that right?_

I literally just spit out a bullshit answer that I pulled out of my ass, and it ended up being right?!

I... I can’t even take this seriously right now.

You know what else I can’t take seriously right now? The fact that I’m gonna have to sit through this ridiculous group for forty more minutes...

_God help me..._

~ ~ ~

_4:00pm_

It’s been hours since that nutrition group, and I’m still trying to figure out how I made it through the whole thing without walking out... And I thought that was gonna be it for today... I was _wrong_.

I had therapy soon after that, and as usual, I sat there feeling uncomfortable, as Rachel tried getting me to open up to her about how I feel in my body, and how my eating disorder behaviors have served me. She brought up my bipolar disorder, and asked how my depression has been... That’s a territory I was not willing to cross... So, that was that.

Of course, I had to go to meals and snacks in between those sessions and groups, because you know... Gotta face your biggest fuckin’ fear six times a day and pretend you’re totally fine doing it! Yeah, I’m _great_. I’m feeling great... _not_. God, I know it’s in my power to express how I’m actually feeling, but I just can’t show everything while I’m around people... I just can’t. They would be horrified.

Unfortunately, even after all of that shit that went down, it still wasn’t the end for me today.

I just came out of a meeting with Eliza, and I don’t even want to process what just happened in there. I’m feeling like I’m about to jump out of my skin because of my fuckin’ anxiety.

Basically, I was told that my weight hasn’t moved since I’ve been here, and it actually dropped... Of course, I didn’t believe her. There was no fuckin’ way she was telling me the truth. I actually felt like I was going to burst into tears because of how tormented I’m feeling in my body, but I forced myself to hold back because there was no way that I would crack in front of her. That wasn’t even the worst of it... It was when she told me that she was gonna have to increase my meal plan that I really thought I was gonna stop breathing.

I literally felt my body shaking and I couldn’t even say anything to her because I was so shocked. I know she told me all of this when I had my first session with her, but I didn’t think it was gonna be this fuckin’ soon! I just started completing the meal plan I’m on, and now I’m gonna get an increase! Its like... I’m not getting time to feel comfortable on the plan I’m on before getting stuff added to it! I can’t fucking do this! I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this. The session ended a while ago and I’m still sitting here panicking.

I want to crawl out of my skin, and the distortions I’m having are getting worse because of the anxiety. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that my weight dropped when I could swear I feel everything getting bigger, and my clothes feel tighter, and I’m taking up way more space... I just... it doesn’t make sense!

I haven’t even been here for two weeks yet and this already feels so fuckin’ hard... I can’t see myself being able to make it through treatment if I’m already getting like this because of an increase, when I know very well that this won’t be my only one...

~ ~ ~

_8:00pm_

“This place is fuckin’ nuts... I don’t know what world these people working here live in, but it’s _not_ this one!”

I have so much that I want to tell DJ and Nikki, but I feel bad since all I’m doing is venting to them right now, but I know I won’t be able to truly enjoy this FaceTime call with them if I don’t get this out first... Even though they’ve been hearing me complain every night about at least one thing during our phone calls...

I can tell from the video that DJ and Nikki are at my house... I see the patterned carpet in my room, and I can see Rocco’s little face in the background. _God_ , I fuckin’ miss that cat...

I hear a light snicker coming from DJ and he smiles. He’s laying on the floor and Nikki is sitting up behind him.

“Let it out, bud...”. He brings the phone closer to his face and gives me a goofy, demented smile. “I’m all ears!”

I let out a light laugh, because despite how frustrated I am right now, DJ never fails to get some kind of positive feeling out of me... even if it’s just for a few seconds.

I take a deep breath, as I curl myself tighter into the blankets on my bed, as I get ready to let everything out.

“God... I don’t even know where to start.” I shake my head, and just want to fuckin’ laugh because of how unreal some of the shit that happens here is.

“Does it have to do with the weird food rules again?”

I can tell DJ is trying to hold in a laugh, and honestly, I’m not even mad at him, because I still am not over the rules around eating.

“Were you told to slather peanut butter on your whole banana and deep throat it?”

I let out a really demented cackle the second I hear DJ say that. I shake my head.

“No, but someone here referred to mayonnaise as _‘God’s semen.’_ ”

I can hear Nikki cackling in the background, and all that does is make me laugh harder.

“I swear...”. I’m shaking my head and continue, attempting to breathe through my laughs. “It was in the middle of a meal too... I don’t even remember where it fuckin’ came from but...”. I squeeze my eyes shut. “I’m tellin’ you, ya can’t make this shit up....”

DJ looks as red as a tomato right now... He still hasn’t stopped laughing. I swear he looks like he might start crying.

“Did she at least eat the mayo?”

I nod my head. “Ohh yeah.” I breathe in. “She ate it, all right...”

It takes a few moments for DJ to stop laughing completely, but when he does, he goes back to my original complaint.

“So, what’s goin’ on? What’s drivin’ you nuts today?”

I bite my lip and can feel myself smirking.

“Well...”. I breathe in. “I had my first Nutrition group today... and...”. I pause, trying to figure out how I’m supposed to explain the utter bizarity of the whole thing without coming off as a complete bastard.

“Let’s just say, I think they forget that I’m a grown man...”

That receives a confused look from DJ, as he tilts his head and raises an eyebrow.

“Wanna elaborate?”

I groan and rub my hand over my face, as I begin explaining.

“Okay... You know that fake food that you probably played with when you were a kid?” I lick my lips. “The rubber food toys?”

I see DJ smiling widely on the screen, and he excitedly answers.

“Oh yeah! I loved that shit!”

“Well... that’s basically what that group was—-“

I can’t even finish my sentence before DJ jumps in.

“You got to play with fake food?!” His face is lit up with childlike excitement, and part of me _really_ wants to roll my eyes... “Dude, that sounds so fun—“

“Well, you know, you’re _totally_ free to trade places with me if that sounds so freakin’ _great_ to you!”

_Fuck_ , I didn’t mean to come off like that...

“I’m sorry DJ—“. I shake my head. “I didn’t m—“

“Dude, don’t apologize!” He smiling. “You’re allowed to feel whatever you need to... I just personally think it sounds kind of fun.”

“We didn’t actually _play_ , play with it...” I smirk. “We had to guess the ‘exchanges’ for each food...”. I pause, as I realize DJ probably has no fuckin’ idea what I’m talking about. “For example, there was something that looked like a chicken breast, and we had to guess how many servings of protein that was...”

I’m trying so hard to not roll my eyes as I say this shit, because I _still_ can’t wrap my head around the fact that we had to use fake food for that group.

DJ nods his head in understanding, as Nikki starts talking.

“Well, that makes sense, James. You have a skewed perception of what a normal amount of food is...”. I roll my eyes, but let him continue. “Learning portions is important. I think you know that deep inside, even if you think the whole thing is ridiculous...”

I nod my head because I get what he’s saying, but at the same time—

“But fake food? Seriously?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand why the group couldn’t have been done without making me feel like I was in kindergarten!”

Part of me realizes that I’m using my energy to complain about the group because it’s easier to think about that than express my anxiety about my session with Eliza today... I don’t want to tell DJ and Nikki how I’m really feeling right now... I’m honestly so fuckin’ uncomfortable. Today’s been the third day that I’ve eaten everything, and the mental torment that I’m feeling is horrible, but I don’t want to fuckin’ think about it.

I still feel so unsafe in my body, and I feel like I’m living in a prison... a container that doesn’t feel familiar or comforting. It just feels scary. It feels grotesque, and I have no control over it right now... I feel powerless. I can’t trust my mind or my perceptions of anything. I don’t even know if what I’m seeing or feeling is accurate because everyone always tells me that it’s not! How can that be?! It’s not possible!

“James?”

_Oh god... No... Did I fuckin’ space out? Please tell me that my anxiety isn’t noticeable right now... Please... I’m begging you!_

“You good, man?”

DJ looks so concerned right now, and it almost feels like his eyes are going to burn a hole into my soul.

“I’m alright, D...”. I let out a yawn, as a way to try to ease my panic but it’s not doing much. “It’s just been a long day....”

I can feel a huge wave of guilt wash over me as I say that, because it’s the farthest from the truth.

_How much longer am I gonna keep saying that everything is okay?_

~ ~ ~

_Two days later_

**DJ’s P.O.V:**

I need to be honest.

I know that James is getting help, and that is _all_ that I’ve wanted for him this whole time... I feel incredibly relieved knowing that he is in a safe place, with doctors and nurses and therapists and dietitians... He’s surrounded by staff all day, every day... He’s surrounded by all of these people who are doing everything that they can to help him. Of course, I know that all of this won’t work unless James wants to help himself, but that is no longer a concern, because I know he wants to get better. He tells me and Nikki every day when we call him... He tells us when we visit him... He is always reminding us that he is willing to put in all of the hard work that he needs to in order to recover... even if most of the time he thinks so many of the groups, rules, and therapy is straight out ridiculous... Which, I honestly can’t blame him. He’s told me a lot of the rules and shit that goes on where he is, and... that is some fuckin’ _weird_ shit!

I mean, not being able to dunk cookies in milk? You can’t dip your grilled cheese in tomato soup? You can’t even break your Oreos in half! You have to just eat them _whole_! I’m sorry, but I don’t trust anyone who eats their Oreos whole... I just _don’t_...

I’ll admit that I laugh along with James when he tells me this shit, because it really is bizarre. Like, I understand that all of those crazy rules are in place for a reason... They’re all there to serve the same purpose: to help James in some way... I just think they’re kind of funny. Nikki always glares at me whenever I make a joke out of it. He tells me that I’m slightly enabling James by laughing along with him, but _fuck_ , I totally don’t mean to do that...

I got completely off topic.

Long story short, I know that James is being taken care of right now, but I have to confess... I’m still really fuckin’ worried.

I know you’re probably thinking, _‘But DJ, he’s okay. He’s getting help. There’s nothing to be concerned about. He’s around staff members all the time—‘_

I _know_. That’s the thing, I _know_ that he’s safe... and this is why I feel slightly embarrassed for worrying so much, but at the same time, I don’t. I don’t because I think I have pretty valid reasons for feeling this way.

Look, these last eight months have been some of the most painful, terrifying, and anxiety-inducing months of my life. I had walked into our tour expecting amazing things... a fun, carefree time for the three of us... a time for the strong bond between us to grow even stronger... a time for us to gather new, crazy memories that we would cherish for years on end.

That’s what I _thought_ the three of us were walking into.

It turned out to be almost the complete _opposite_.

It started off great... but then the months went on, and time passed, and the worry that I had in the back of my head... the thing that I kept trying to push away... the thing that I kept trying to convince myself wasn’t true.... that I was overthinking.... It _was_ true. I _wasn’t_ overthinking it... and having to face the reality was one of the worst things I’ve had to do in my life.

I had no choice but to watch James disintegrate... I couldn’t do anything to stop him. I couldn’t help him because he didn’t want to help himself. No matter how many times Nikki tried to talk to him, or I pleaded and begged with him... None of it did anything. I _couldn’t._

I couldn’t run away from what was happening, because it smacked me in the face every single day... Every time I saw James, I was just reminded of the fact that my best friend was dying. He was dying, and I didn’t know how much longer he would be here with me until his body decided to give up on him.

I was so scared. I was fuckin’ terrified. I was paralyzed. Every fuckin’ day, I was scared that it was gonna be it. I didn’t know which day I was gonna find him dead. I was having horrible nightmares every night about it, and I would wake up in a cold sweat, hyperventilating. Sometimes I would break down in tears too. I was so upset, but also so angry. I didn’t understand why James was doing this to himself, and I didn’t know why he had to develop such a horrible disease. I was angry at the universe... I was pissed at God for putting James through this.

I felt like I was grieving... I felt like I was grieving James, even though he was still alive. Yeah, he was still alive, but his soul wasn’t. His soul got sucked away by the fuckin’ parasitical, evil, disease. His body was alive, but his personality was gone. His sense of humor, and his passion, and his fire that burned inside of him constantly... All of that was gone... Every aspect that made James who he was disappeared.

So, yeah, he might have still been alive, but I really was grieving. I was grieving the _real_ James— not the hollow, emotionless, apathetic shell of a person who looked like James.

I was haunted by my own fear, and I couldn’t escape it... Soon, I found myself disconnecting because the intensity of the emotion was so high that I think my brain couldn’t handle it, so it tried to block it out...

That was, until...

Just remembering the horror of this is shaking me up right now, but I can’t forget even if I tried.

I thought the world was actually ending... the night that I found James unconscious in his hotel room bathroom... I thought he was fuckin’ _dead_...

I can’t erase that night. I can’t block it out... I can’t forget it...

It still haunts me... because I am _still_ having nightmares about James...

He’s in treatment, and I _still_ wake up sweating, on the verge of tears, because I’m so fuckin’ scared that something will happen again...

I know it’s not rational. I know he’s okay, but witnessing that... Seeing James deteriorate to the point of almost dying... That shit leaves scars... _Deep_ scars.

I’m constantly trying to talk myself down from the anxiety... I keep trying to remind myself that James is being taken care of... He’s in a safe place, and nothing is going to happen to him—

But, it just doesn’t fuckin’ help sometimes! Every time I visit him with Nikki, I always have a hard time leaving when visiting hours are over. I never want to leave because when I do, I can’t see him, so I don’t know if he’s okay. At least when I’m there, he’s with me. I see what’s going on, so I know that he’s absolutely okay, so then there’s nothing to worry about.

But, when I leave... That’s when all of those catastrophic, anxiety-filled thoughts swim around in my head. That’s when I start to panic, and want to run right back inside the facility. It’s happened a few times, and Nikki has had to hold me back... He’s gentle but firm. Sometimes, I’ll end up crying to him, because the fuckin’ fear still eats at me, and he does his best to comfort me, and remind me of the fact that James has a treatment team who knows what they’re doing, and that I have to trust them—

But how?! I try. I try to, but I keep feeling the need to know everything that’s going on all the time... I catch myself asking James all of the same questions every time that I visit him:

_Are the staff nice?_   
_Are they treating you well?_   
_Are you comfortable?_   
_Are the other patients nice to you?_   
_Is the food fresh?_

He probably gets so sick of the questions but it puts me at some kind of ease... I need to ask. I just need to make sure he’s safe.

When I’m not visiting, I always have intense urges to call him... I just feel better hearing his voice, so I know that he’s still here. Most of the time, he answers, but sometimes he won’t because he’s in a group, or a meal, or a session. I get freaked out when he doesn’t answer, and I’ll end up calling the nurses’ station. I start asking all of the same questions that I would ask James, and I know whoever is on the other line probably always wants to just hang up, but they don’t. I’ll start pestering them. Sometimes, I’ll beg them to let me talk to James even if he’s in the middle of something.

Most of the time, Nikki has to coax me off of the phone, but I start resisting. He constantly tells me that I can’t be trying to call James four times a day. He understands how hard all of this is for me, but he’s still firm in reminding me of the facts:

_James is in treatment._

_James is getting help._

_James is safe._

_James has a treatment team that knows what they’re doing._

I wish that I could just believe those things, but I can’t...

I wish I knew why this was so fuckin’ _hard_.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am so mentally tortured by body dysmorphia and irrational thoughts about food that I’ve been numbing myself out during meals just to get through them. I feel like the only motivation to complete everything right now is so I get to use my phone... and I think that’s pretty pathetic. I’m done with this stupid eating disorder but this is so goddamn hard that I’m just forcing the food down my throat... I know that if I let myself feel the real emotions while eating, that I physically won’t be able to eat it...
> 
> But after the meal, it’s a different story. That’s when I feel everything, and I run over to my room to hide by my closet and then I start breaking down... and the body distortions begin, and the guilt and intense anxiety start, and all of the obsessions and self-deprecating core beliefs flood my already violated mind, and I am officially imprisoned. Trapped, violated, unsafe - locked up.
> 
> And then it all stops. I become numb... until the next piece of food touches my mouth, and it happens all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kind of a big shit show, but I'm trying to be real with this story so... lets be real. The situation is basically a shit show!! But seriously though... This chapter feels very real to me for many reasons, so I had to separate myself from the boys -- #empathproblems -- in order to not take on everyone's emotions! 
> 
> WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:  
> ***severe body dysmorphia, feelings of helplessness/desperation, anxiety/panic attacks, PTSD flashbacks/dissociation, impulsivity, alcohol***
> 
> FYI: The way James experiences his body dysmorphia is written the way that I experience mine... so it might sound crazy when you read it, but that's truly how it is... and in the moment all of it feels incredibly real...  
> (oh, and flashbacks are in italics !!)
> 
> I hope you like it! I honestly think it kind of sucks but... That's pretty typical for me (self-confidence is through the roof!!!!! --- not ) LOL. 
> 
> Enjoy !!

**JAMES’S P.O.V:**

**_Day Thirteen_ **

You know what the weekends are like here in treatment?

_Boring._

Unless you’re going on a pass, which I’m definitely not. I haven’t been here long at all, and I’m still too medically unstable to be able to do anything, so that’s not gonna happen anytime soon... So, if you’re like me, stuck in the facility over the weekend, you’re basically doing nothing. I mean, it’s not like I’ve been doing much anyway, but there’s a lot more structure during the week. On the weekends, there’s no sessions with your therapist, or dietitian... There’s an on-call Doctor just to do morning check ins, and a therapist who runs one group in the morning, but that's it. The rest of the day is just filled with food... and staying in my room, of course.

The visiting hours are a lot longer on the weekends though, so at least that gives some distraction. See, that’s the thing... Even though I’m not too thrilled about going to the groups all the time, I can acknowledge that they at least give me some sort of distraction from everything... But on the weekends, I just have to sit with everything, and it’s horrible.

I am so mentally tortured by body dysmorphia and irrational thoughts about food that I’ve been numbing myself out during meals just to get through them. I feel like the only motivation to complete everything right now is so I get to use my phone... and I think that’s pretty pathetic. I’m done with this stupid eating disorder but this is so goddamn hard that I’m just forcing the food down my throat... I know that if I let myself feel the real emotions while eating, that I physically won’t be able to eat it...

But after the meal, it’s a different story. That’s when I feel everything, and I run over to my room to hide by my closet and then I start breaking down... and the body distortions begin, and the guilt and intense anxiety start, and all of the obsessions and self-deprecating core beliefs flood my already violated mind, and I am officially imprisoned. Trapped, violated, unsafe - _locked up_.

And then it all stops. I become numb... until the next piece of food touches my mouth, and it happens _all over again._

~ ~ ~

**_3:30pm_ **

We just finished a weekend music therapy group, and I’m feeling a lot right now.

I was happy to be in that group, but now I’m back in my room and I’m just... sad.

I miss performing, and miss doing what I love, and I know that if I wasn’t here that’s exactly what I would be doing. It’s so hard to remind myself that I’m here for a reason, even though I know I am, because I know I’m missing out on so much...

I miss the person that I used to be, and I hate that everything led to this. I hate that I did this to myself and now I’m stuck here, and I hate that all of this is so hard, despite how much I don’t want to live this way. I hate that everyone here has to see me like this, and I hate that I feel like I can’t connect to who I was before this happened.

Part of me is wondering if this is it... that I’m gonna live like this for the rest of my life... Will I actually overcome this? I’m not feelin’ so hopeful because everything feels horrible right now. Things are getting mentally worse for me, and I know everyone says things get worse before they get better but I’m not handling this well at all...

~ ~ ~

**_Day Fourteen:_ **

I don’t know what’s goin’ on with my body, but for the past few days since I’ve started eating all of my food here, I’ve noticed some weird things happening.

I’ve been extremely bloated, and it’s not that I’m too surprised about that, because I’m not. My body is getting used to food again, so it honestly makes sense why that’s happening, but it’s not just regular bloating... It’s... gas. I don’t think I have to go into detail for you to understand what I’m talking about here... It’s extremely uncomfortable especially when I can’t pass it, and it doesn’t help that I’m not pooping either... It makes me ask myself where the hell the food I’m eating is going? I’m drinking my fluids too, so you would think I would at least shit a tiny bit, but nope.

It’s not only the digestive issues that are causing me a bit of distress, but also the temperature changes. I feel like a menopausal woman and I have no clue where these hot flashes are coming from. I swear, I’ll go from freezing my ass off one minute to suddenly dripping in sweat, and I’m not even exaggerating when I say dripping. I’ve woken up wet a few times, and it’s so disgusting. A nurse came into my room the other day and accused me of exercising, because she saw me sweating! I wasn’t exercising. I was just sweating bullets but I’m not sure if she believed me. I won’t be surprised if I find out I’ve gotten privileges taken away...

~ ~ ~

**_1:30pm_ **

You know you’re gonna have a _fantastic_ lunch when you’re in the dining room for five minutes and already have to watch someone hide food right in front of you... Yeah... that’s what I just witnessed...

I’m not gonna lie and say that it didn’t bother me to see that. Part of me is saying that it shouldn’t matter because I’m here for my own recovery and nobody elses, but I need to be honest. It’s fuckin’ tough to see so many people get away with “food rituals” and “behaviors” when I’ve been working so hard to not do them myself. Every time I go to a meal or snack, the urges to do all of the weird shit with my food are so high. They’re so high, but I force myself to resist... or at least I really _try_ to.

It’s fucking tough, alright? I’m still called out constantly on “rituals” and I feel just as embarrassed as I did the first time... It’s just something that's become so habitual, so it’s ridiculously hard to stop doing it. The other night at a snack I was struggling to pace myself... I was eating grapes but I couldn’t eat them normally. Instead of eating them whole like a normal person would, I was taking multiple bites of them, even just the fuckin’ skin, so of course I was gonna get called out on that.

_“James, please try to not bite the skin off of your grapes.”_

I almost couldn’t... I almost wasn’t able to finish them without eating them that way, but I did. It took a long freakin’ time because it felt so uncomfortable, but the important part is that I did eat them... I almost ran out of time but I did it.

Then, the other night at dinner I had spaghetti and meatballs, which was absolutely terrifying... I was struggling to not cut the meatballs up so much, and obviously I got called out on that too... Of course I was expecting it, but it doesn’t make it any easier when it happens.

_“Hey, James. Can you try to cut your meatballs into bigger pieces and take slightly bigger bites?”_

I really wanted to scream, but of course I wouldn’t do that. I just sat there and smiled, pretending I wasn’t totally bothered by that... I will admit, I may or may not have continued to cut the meatballs up small when the staff weren’t looking... But... That’s just food “rituals.”

What I saw today at lunch wasn’t that... It was just straight out eating disorder _behaviors..._

I’ve been trying so hard to complete everything and it feels like torture, so seriously, having no choice but to sit there and watch someone literally hide their whole cup of tuna salad in their napkin, and then hide that in their empty coffee cup was NOT pleasant. I tried to not pay attention but it was hard, because my seat was right across from her! I wanted to walk out, but that’s not allowed, so I had to sit with these feelings... It’s just tough. Everything is fuckin’ tough.

It’s tough, and even though it frustrates me to have to witness these things, I also have empathy and compassion for these people. We’re all struggling with the same thing here, so I don’t think it’s fair for me to be angry at these patients for doing this shit, because who am I to talk? I’ve done the same stuff! Honestly, I can’t even count how many times I’ve lied and manipulated DJ and Nikki... especially around food and eating. I did anything I could to get away with restricting... I pulled pieces of food and hid them in my napkin, or even the pockets of my clothes when no one was looking! I cut shit up and moved it around so it looked like I ate more than I did. I even chewed and spit sometimes! Everything I’m witnessing these other patients do here is shit that I’m guilty of doing... So, even though I’m having a hard time having to watch it happen, I can’t be mad... It’s not right, and it’s not fair to them.

That doesn’t take away how much it bothers me though. It’s just hard because I feel guilty for being upset about it. I guess it’s hard because whenever I would use rituals at the table, I always got called out on it, and ended up feeling humiliated like there was no tomorrow. No one called that girl out on hiding her tuna salad today... I saw it with my bare eyes, smacking me right in the fucking face as I was forcing my food down my throat, pretending to be okay when all I wanted to do was break down. But no one said anything to her. Part of me wanted to say something, but I would never. It’s not my place to do that, and I would have felt really bad if I ratted someone out. I know it’s important to be honest and that’s how I’ll get better, but I’m not even sure if I should tell Rachel about how much I’m struggling with this... I want to, but I also don’t think I should waste a session complaining about stupid things that shouldn’t mean a thing to me. I don’t know... I don’t fuckin’ know...

~ ~ ~

**_9:00pm_ **

I’m really happy that today is almost over, because it’s just been hard. I’m grateful that Nikki and DJ came during visiting hours today... They actually brought their acoustic guitars and asked if I wanted to jam a little... I’ll be honest and say that at first I wasn’t feelin’ it at all, but they convinced me, saying that it would help me get out of my head a little, so I gave in.... and they were right. I haven’t sang in a while and my throat hurt, but it felt nice being able to connect to that part of me for a little bit... We had the door closed, _kinda_ , but I’m pretty sure other people heard us, because I could have sworn I saw a few staff members swaying to the music from the crack of my door... It made me smile.

DJ just cracked me up the whole time... He drew some _interesting_ pictures on the whiteboard in my room, and multiple staff have commented on it today, telling me that it was “inappropriate.” It cracks me up because he’ll draw something new every time he comes to visit, and I have a feeling the staff are gonna catch on soon... I wonder if they’re suspicious. I mean, think about it. Every time one of the drawings get erased, a new one pops up... I hate erasing them though, because it’s like the one little piece of DJ I can keep with me until I see or hear from him next. It just reminds me of the good times... Ya know, when things were normal and not fucked up... before all of this shit started.

Speaking of DJ... I have to admit, I’m a little bit concerned about him.

Of course I’m sitting here in treatment focusing my energy on worrying about other people, but I don’t give a fuck. This isn’t me being a _people-pleaser_ and putting everyone’s needs ahead of mine. This is just me being a good friend and noticing that something doesn’t seem right... I love DJ to death and I know that everything that’s gone on the past year really affected him... I can’t help but feel so much shame knowing that it was my fault...

I’ve just... I’ve noticed that he seems a lot more anxious lately. I don’t want to say anything when he comes to visit, because I would hate to ruin the time together, but I’ve just never seen him like this before. I can tell he’s trying to hide his feelings... I know him so well, and he’s being like me. He usually isn’t that kind of guy, but lately he’s doing what I do. _God_ , what a fuckin’ role model I am.

It hurts because I want to tell him everything’s okay. Of course that’s a fuckin’ lie and it’s a lie that I’ve told him and Nikki too many times. It’s a lie that neither one of them would believe, but I don’t want them to hurt. I hate seeing DJ in pain. I wish I could erase everything that he had to fuckin’ witness with me. I hate that he had to see me doing all of this shit to myself, and I wish I didn’t have to remember how he found me in that fuckin’ bathroom...

Whenever it’s time for him and Nikki to leave, I know DJ doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t necessarily say it, but I read people so easily... He doesn’t have to say anything. There’s always that part of me that wants to grab him and tell him that he can stay as long as he wants, but it’s not allowed. If I would, I would let him. I can just tell how rough it is for him... My heart hurts and once they’re gone, I just feel such an overwhelming storm of guilt and shame, because I know that I’m the one that caused the pain, and all I want to do is fix it. That’s what I’m trying to do now, by being here. It’s just incredibly hard when there’s still that huge part of me that feels like I don’t deserve to help myself.

~ ~ ~

**_Day Fifteen:_ **

I love starting my day off being told that I need another fuckin’ increase...

_God_... ever since Eliza started giving me calorie increases to my meal plan, I’ve been feeling so mentally tormented. I can’t even explain... I know. I know it’s part of the treatment! Obviously... Eating is... important, and I was prepared for this but at the same time, I wasn’t. I wasn’t prepared for it to be like this... This _fast_.

It seems like every time I get comfortable with the meal plan I’m on, I get an increase. Once I complete my meal plan for one day, I get bumped up, and I hate to be like this, but it’s feeling unbearable. I’m not even at a “normal” meal plan yet, despite getting increased three times already, and it just gets harder and harder and harder...

Eliza keeps telling me my weight is dropping so she has to increase me, and I don’t understand how that’s even possible! She keeps saying that my metabolism is speeding up because my body is so excited that it’s getting fed... Like okay, great, but at the same time... _STOP!_

Its not my fault that my body isn’t cooperating... I’m finishing everything. Whether it’s the food or the ensure, I’m completing everything, and my body won’t do what it’s supposed to! I want to fucking cry because this all feels so horrible, and my body not listening is making it worse.

~ ~ ~

**_Day Sixteen:_ **

**_11:00am_ **

I found out today that I can’t get away with not talking in group, because I was finally called on in psychotherapy by the therapist who was running it. In a way, I get it... I haven’t checked in during a group since I’ve been here... That’s almost three weeks. Naturally, a therapist would call me out and make me talk, but knowing me, that wasn’t in my mind and I thought it would never happen. I was _wrong._

I just sat there awkwardly, hoping that she would have changed her mind and went onto another person, but that didn’t happen. I felt like that therapist’s eyes were burning holes into my soul, and I swear I felt everyone looking at me. I was probably starting to sweat too... God, that’s fuckin’ embarrassing, but opening up in groups is uncomfortable, okay? That’s why I’ve been avoiding it for the longest time, but I couldn’t get out of it today.

I literally tried everything I could to avoid talking but nobody was taking my shit. Whenever I tried to crack a joke or deflect with slight sarcasm, I was called out. I even had someone point blankly say, _“James... come on. You’ve literally avoided sharing in groups the whole time you’ve been here... Cut the crap.”_ I’ll admit that I laughed because it’s true, but the I was hopeless in the situation... I had to talk. I really had no choice...

I hardly said a damn word, but just admitting that I’ve been having a rough time was enough for me to feel like all of my flesh was exposed... Everyone was super supportive, but it was so _fuckin’_ uncomfortable...

~ ~ ~

**DJ’s P.O.V:**

It’s 4:00pm... And I’m sitting at James’s kitchen table, petting Rocco. Nikki is out buying a few things, so I’m just here, by myself, all alone with my thoughts and emotions.

Part of me is wondering if I should have gone with him, so then I could have been distracted, but the other part of me knows that Rocco needs someone to keep him company... I can’t imagine how hard it must be for that cat... He probably misses James a crap ton... He has no idea where he is, and he has no clue why he’s gone... I’m looking at him, and I feel empathy. He’s just a cat... He had James to take care of him and nurture him. He must feel so confused and lonely right now... Even though I’m here, I know it’s not the same.

It’s crazy... I’m just thinking to myself how the cat has no idea of everything that’s gone on. He knows his dad isn’t here, but does he know every little detail? I know that animals do have some kind of sixth sense when it comes to their human’s emotions... I wonder if he knew something was wrong... You know, when we had our three week break from touring, did Rocco see James engage in stuff? Did he see him purge? Was he scared?

I feel a chill run through my whole body because having that thought is just reminding me of the day that I heard James purging.... at our album release party... Oh _god_ , I wish I could forget this stuff but I just can’t, and part of me knows it’s better to not block it out even though it’s still very uncomfortable and upsetting to remember.

I can feel my body beginning to tense up, because as I’m remembering these things, I’m also remembering the time. It’s 4:00pm and usually I call James around this time...

The thing is that I already called him twice today. Once in the morning, when I first woke up, and then a few hours after that... It’s 4:00pm and I can already feel the urges to call him again bubble up to the surface.

I have my phone on the table, and now I can’t stop staring at it. My eyes are burning holes into it, because of how hard I’m staring. I’ve been trying so hard to call him less... I’ve been trying to listen to Nikki when he says that I don’t need to call three or four times a day... Part of me knows that I don’t... I really, really, do.

It’s fucked up that I know that, but I’m still finding myself in this position right now. I’m literally staring at my fucking phone because I can’t get myself to move away from it... The urge to check up on James is so intense right now that I feel like I can’t channel that rational part of me. I’m trying to. I’m trying to, but the anxiety fueled voice is screaming louder. It feels like that’s all I can hear...

The longer that I sit here and stare at it, the worse the noise up in my head is getting, and the more antsy I’m feeling. My legs are shaking from underneath the table, and I’m starting to fidget. This sounds so pathetic... The fact that this is all over a fuckin’ phone call makes me feel like there’s something seriously wrong with me.

At the same time, I can’t shake the anxiety. I know I just fuckin’ called him a few hours ago. I know I heard his voice and he told me he’s fine. I know, I know, I KNOW!

I fuckin’ know, but I’m still here, feeling like I’m about to crawl out of my skin because I just need to hear his voice again. I need to know he’s still okay. I _need—-_

_DJ... You don’t need to call him... You don’t need to call him right now._

_You have to call him! You have to! You don’t know if something happened from two hours ago. What if he didn’t finish one of his meals and something got fucked up in his body because of that? What if he got sick and threw up and—_

_I promise you, James is okay. He’s in a hospital with nurses around him... His treatment team is there, helping him right now. If something happened, they’re right there to fix it, okay?_

_Fuck! You can’t trust that! You can’t trust that! What if they’re not being honest when you call? What if everyone is just lying to you so you’ll stop calling there and pissing off the staff! They’re probably just telling you what you want to hear so you’ll back off—_

The dialogue in my head is so chaotic right now and I feel like I’m about to scream. I can feel tears of frustration and anxiety beginning to well in my eyes, and I just want to rip my head off because I need this to just stop!

Why can’t I just trust? Why can’t I trust that he’s okay and that he’s in good hands right now?! I did call him. I called him _twice_! Why can’t I just be okay with that?! Why am I sitting here on the verge of tears because I’m trying to resist calling a third fucking time?!

Why is all of this so _goddamn_ overwhelming?!

~ ~ ~

**JAMES’S P.O.V:**

_**5:00pm** _

Eliza had given me an assignment a few days ago to list the foods that I’m scared of eating and to put the reason why next to them... Honestly, there’s so many foods I’m terrified of having right now so it was a pretty long list, but it wasn’t a hard assignment to do at all... I actually feel a little pathetic just admitting that, because seriously... What normal person is scared of food? I’m basically rolling my eyes at myself right now...

Anyway, I met with her earlier today and she had me share the list with her, and I just have to admit that it felt funny saying it out loud. When I wrote the reasons down, it made complete sense to me, but when I actually heard them out loud they sounded pretty distorted.

I actually started laughing when I read them to Eliza because I realized how stupid my reasons sounded, especially because if Nikki or DJ told me that they believed those things, I would be so confused. It’s so weird... Eliza actually brought that up.

_“What would you say to someone else if they told you that?”_

It’s almost like the rules that I apply to myself don’t apply to anyone else. Whenever I’m asked why, I can never give a straight answer because I feel like I don’t have one. If DJ ever told me that he couldn’t eat food with salt because he’s convinced that it would give him high blood pressure, I would tell him that he’s being a bit irrational... But for me... Nah, not irrational! It makes _total_ sense!

Oh DJ... I hope he never thinks the way I’m thinking right now... God, I _really_ hope he doesn’t ever have to know what this feels like... He’s already going through so much. I can’t stop thinking about him and my heart hurts.

He’s called me twice today, and he sounds so fuckin’ anxious every time I talk to him. I don’t have to see his face to know he’s hurting. He’s hurting so bad, and my heart breaks just knowing that he’s hurting. He doesn’t talk about it, but I just know... We’ve been friends for a while, so I can read him like a book.

I wish I could be fully honest when he asks me how meals are, and how I’m feeling, but I can’t. I can’t and I feel like an absolute shit hole about it, because I’ve already hurt so much people with my fuckin’ lies... meanwhile I’m still lying. It’s not lying about behaviors I’m using... I just can’t acknowledge my feelings... I can’t tell them how I’m really feeling. I’m doing okay. I’m eating everything, but I’m not feeling good about it... I’m feeling horrible...

_That’s_ the part that I can’t say.

~ ~ ~

**DJ’s P.O.V:**

**_5:30pm_ **

_“James?”_

_The lights are all on in his room. His bed is unmade, but he’s not in it... I can make out his phone on the counter of the kitchen area..._

_Everything is so eerily quiet._

_Too quiet._

_It’s the very second that I see the lights on in the bathroom that I know... I know that he’s definitely in there—-_

_“James?!”_

_I’ve never ran somewhere so fast in my life. The door isn’t closed all the way, so I force it open. My stomach is twisting and turning into knots right now, and all I want to do is scream... But... the words won’t come out._

_I can’t even move. My whole body feels frozen in place... My muscles feel paralyzed. I’m beginning to feel all of the color drain from my face. My stomach feels hollow, and my chest feels tight._

_I... I can’t fuckin’ breathe._

“DJ?”

I snap my head up at Nikki’s voice... I didn’t realize he was even in front of me until right this second, and to say I feel caught off guard would be a complete understatement right now...

“You alright?”

_He’s sprawled out on the floor of the bathroom... He’s just laying there... With nothing but sweatpants and a white, sleeveless shirt on... and... and..._

_“No.....”_

“Yeah, of course.” I shake my head, and crack a smile, trying to show confusion. “What's that question about?”

I can see Nikki shrugging his shoulders before he starts speaking.

“You seemed like you were stuck in your head...”. He takes a seat at the table next to me. “Spaced out?” I notice him eyeing my cell phone, and I can feel myself tense up.

_For the love of god, please don’t bring up the phone... Please don’t bring up the phone... Please Nikki, just don’t._

“What’s going on in your head right now, DJ?”

_“No, no, no, no, NO!”_

_My throat feels like it’s about to close, and I feel like I’m about to barf. My heart is in my throat and I can’t breathe. I can’t fuckin’ breathe right now—-_

“Nothing.”

“DJ... You can tell me.”

“Dude... You’re actin like a real mother hen right now!” I force a laugh and I hope it sounds genuine because I’m not feelin’ this conversation right now. “I’m a big boy... Don’t need my daddy checkin’ up on me all the time.”

_“FUCK!”_

_I’m shaking him. I’m shaking him so hard, but I’m not getting a response. I’m not getting ANYTHING—-_

_“JAMES!”_

“You wanted to call James, didn’t you?”

I immediately shake my head.

“No... Not today—“

“DJ...”. Nikki is giving me a gentle smile. “Come on. You can be honest with me.”

“I didn’t.... Not right now—-“

“Did you call him at all today?” Nikki’s eyes are so gentle and comforting, but I still want to run away. I feel like an exposed onion right now.

_“WAKE....UP...”. I can hardly make sense of the words that I’m spitting out. My voice is muffled from my tears, and my vision is blurred from the makeup getting in my eyes. “GODDAMMIT JAMES!”_

“How many times did you call today?” He puts a hand on my shoulder, as I physically cringe. “

“T... two...”

My throat feels like it’s about to close because of the anxiety but I don’t want to show that. It’s hard. It’s getting really fucking hard to pretend I’m fine right now, especially when these terrifying images are replaying over and over in my head—

“Why do you want to call him again?”

_“Don’t do this to me, James!”_

_I can’t stop crying, and I can’t stop shaking him either. I can’t stop screaming. I can’t stop pleading—-_

_“DON’T FUCKIN’ DO THIS TO ME!”_

“What do you think is going to happen if you don’t call him?”

“N... nothing.” I shake my head. “Nothing’s gonna happen if I don’t call him.”

“Then, what's giving you this urgency to want to call him, DJ?”

I can’t have this talk right now. I can’t, especially because I feel like I’m about to break down right now. My heart is in my throat and I can’t fuckin’ do this right now—

“I... I don’t know, okay!”

“You know I wouldn’t judge you for anything, DJ. If something’s going on, you don’t need to be afraid to tell me—-“

_I wish I could shake him and just ask why the fuck he’s doing this to himself! I just want an answer! I don’t understand!_   
_I just want to understand!_

_“Why?!”_

_My voice is fucking trembling but I feel haunted... I wish he could answer me... I just want him to ANSWER me!_

_“Why are you doing this?!”_

I can feel tears welling in my eyes and I need to get out of here! I can’t do this right now. I can’t fuckin’ do this!

“You know what? I’ve been stuck in this house the whole day...”. I start making my way out the door. “I’m just gonna run to the store real quick...”

I don’t even know if Nikki said anything, because now I’m in my car, driving. I don’t know where the fuck I’m going but I just need to get away. I need to be alone! I can’t do this!

The tape won’t stop playing in my head and I can’t fucking breathe right now! I feel out of touch with reality because of how real everything feels right now, and I need it to stop!

I need this all to fuckin’ STOP!

Nikki can’t see me like this! He can’t fucking see me like this! He can’t know what’s going on! He can’t! He’ll think I’m nuts! I feel like there’s something wrong with me. I can’t tell him! I can’t tell anyone this!

I don’t even know how I ended up at a fucking liquor store, but here I am... in the parking lot, hysterically crying like a pussy...

I didn’t mean to come here but I’m so fucking desperate... Maybe alcohol would do the damn job. I don’t even care at this point... I just need _something._

_Anything._

~ ~ ~

**JAMES’S P.O.V:**

**_8:45pm_ **

I just had a breakdown in the fuckin’ shower, and I just feel even more like a mental case than I already did.

I already knew it was gonna be hard to go in there, because honestly every time I have to shower, I dread it. I dread it because I know I’m gonna have to strip down and see my body naked... I can’t hide, and I can’t disappear. Everything’s exposed, and it feels vulnerable. It feels horrible, but I can’t just _not_ shower, so I force myself to... I make myself get in there, even though so much of me wants to fight back... I’ll go in there, and it’s not long before the obsessions begin. I’ll start to become hyper aware of my body and how it’s “changing”, even though I’ve been told so many times that the changes aren’t real... My perception is distorted, but fuck, it feels real to me and it’s terrifying!

I’ll try so hard to distract and disconnect by focusing on what my shampoo smells like or just how soothing the hot water feels on my body, because of how cold I always am, but it only works for so long! Sometimes it doesn’t even work at all, and I just continue to get sucked in.

That’s what happened today... This time it was one of the worst. It wasn’t just me obsessing over what I look like... This time I caught myself starting to feel my body in different ways... and I didn’t realize how compulsive it became until I realized that it was happening the whole fuckin’ time I was in there... It only made things worse for me because it fueled the obsessions... Before I knew it, I was in that mode where I wanted to fuckin’ crawl out of my skin and escape my body. Everything felt unsafe, and I felt so mentally tormented...

All I wanted to do in there was scream, but I didn’t. My mind was shooting out horrible things about my body, but after a while they turned into horrible things about me as a person... How I’m a worthless piece of shit who has caused so much destruction to myself and other people... How I don’t deserve to take up any space because of how horrible I am... How things would just be better if I wasn’t here... and so on... That just escalated all of the painful emotions that I was feeling.

I felt dirty, exposed, and yucky, and all I wanted to do in there was crawl out of my skin, cut my body off, rip my skin off, and just scrub it off. But the worst part is that no matter how hard or how much you scrub, you can’t clean the “insides” out. The “dirty” and “yucky” doesn’t go away.

It doesn’t make what I’ve done to people disappear. It doesn’t erase the filth of my actions or eliminate my shame. So I try to hide myself and all I want to do is escape, but I can’t because I’m exposed in the goddamn shower, and my mind is hijacked with obsessive body checking - I go back to pulling my skin, pinching it, squeezing it, wanting to just GET IT OFF OF ME!

But it doesn’t come off. It’s impossible to escape my body even though that’s literally all I want to do. I don’t want a fucking body. I don’t want to live in it, because this is how I feel in it... And it’s horrible. I wouldn’t wish any of this pain among anyone, because it’s a level of mental torment that I’ve never experienced in my life until this whole thing... and I wish it didn’t fuckin’ exist.

Everything got so bad... I felt like I was gonna emotionally vomit my feelings all over the shower floor. I felt like I was gonna scream, and I had to hold myself back from throwing my shampoo bottles around. I even had urges to hurt myself, and that only made shit worse because of how much shame I have attached to behaviors like that.

It took me so long to be able to get myself out of there... It’s insane because it took forever for me to get myself in there too, but that’s the thing... I wanted to resist, but once I forced myself in, I was sucked into every single compulsion... It’s those compulsions that are so powerful and then in the end leave me feeling trapped.

Somehow I got myself out... But that didn’t do anything for me... I feel worse now. I felt even more unsafe in my skin the second I walked out because I felt even more exposed. I wrapped myself in my towel and didn’t want to let go of it... I sound like a fuckin’ baby right now and I’m ridiculously humiliated that this is what I feel on a daily basis, but it feels so real. When these episodes happen everything feels incredibly real, and it’s scary.

It took me forever to get dressed, because feeling the clothes touch my skin escalated all of the tortured feelings I was having. It just enhanced the reminder that I’m connected to my body and I can’t rip it off, no matter how much I want to. And I know... I know that no matter how loose clothes are, you’re always gonna feel them touch your skin, but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because if I didn’t have a body, nothing would touch it, and these sensations wouldn’t exist. None of this would fuckin’ exist and I wouldn’t feel borderline traumatized every goddamn time I put a pair of pants on...

The thoughts don’t fuckin’ stop! I’m curled up on my bed right now because all I want to do is hide away, and I feel too exposed if I’m not curled up... I layered up in multiple sweatshirts, even though I’m sweating, because it feels safer right now. It feels safer to cover my body up. If I can’t escape it, or pull it off, or disconnect from it, this is the closest I can get to hiding and disappearing... And it fuckin’ sucks because it’s not even helping! Nothing fuckin’ helps! Nothing helps at all because it’s not taking away the core of all of this... It’s not helping me escape my body. It’s not helping me disconnect. It’s not helping me forget that I have one...

It’s not doing ANYTHING!

My body is trembling because of my anxiety, and it’s shaking because of my tears. I have the hood of my sweatshirt pulled all the way up, and I’m curled up so tightly that it’s hard to breathe. Soon I’m gonna be hiding under the covers on this bed like a five year old who’s scared of the monster in his closet... And that’s the thing. I feel _terrified._

I’m terrified because I can’t do anything about this. I’m being forced to feel all of this and I can’t go and engage in the behaviors that would have relieved this pain. The healthy part of me knows that it didn’t _really_ relieve any pain... it just tricked me into believing that it did, but right now it’s hard to access that side! It’s so hard because everything I’m feeling is overpowering the rationale that I have... This is so painful and my god I wish I could give in! You have no idea how much I wish I could just give in...

But... I.... _can’t._

I already know there’s no way I’m gonna be able to sleep tonight. I’m so high strung and everything feels haunted right now... I feel traumatized in my own fuckin’ body. I can’t get myself to calm the hell down, and I’m still crying. It’s silent but only I know how much pain I’m in right now.

Only I know because I still won’t open up about it... especially in moments like this, when I’m feeling this unsafe and vulnerable... The last thing that feels comforting is to expose myself to people... I can’t do it! I can’t fuckin’ do it!

I want to run. I want to run away so bad. If I was able to just jump out the window and escape that way, I would, but I know I can’t. I know I need to be here and I know that, but this is horrible! This is so horrible right now, and this happens every fuckin’ day, and I don’t know how to handle this! I don’t know how to handle it and my first instinct is to run. I don’t want to deal with it. I don’t want to feel my feelings, and I don’t want to just sit with everything and not be able to do anything about it!

I knew things were gonna be hard! I knew they were gonna get harder but not like this! I haven’t been in treatment long at all and I already want to throw in the towel and just forget about it. Everything is so loud up in my head and I want it to stop!

Make it _stop!_

Everything. I want everything to just stop. I want my brain to shut off. I want my body detached from me, and I want all of my emotions to just go away! I’m sick of feeling like this! I’m so fuckin’ sick of feeling like this, and I’m so sick of everyone telling me it’s gonna get better when it’s only getting _worse!_

It’s not fair that it has to get worse first! And I know this from experience... When I stopped drinking everything felt horrible, but I got though it somehow. I don’t understand how I got through it, because look at me right now! It was not this bad. It was not this horrible. This is on a whole new level of torment... I can’t even explain... I just CAN’T!

It makes sense why so many people relapse! Who the fuck wants to feel like this?! I didn’t know it was gonna be this bad. I didn’t know how painful recovery was gonna feel... I didn’t expect it to be like this... I should have but I didn’t, and now I just feel suffocated. I feel absolutely suffocated because _I CAN’T FUCKING DO THIS RIGHT NOW—-_

I want to scream so loud. I want to scream to the heavens for someone to just _HELP ME_ , but the words wouldn’t come out even if I tried! I feel helpless, even though I’m getting help... I feel helpless because my mind is too powerful. The voice up there is yelling so damn loud and it’s all I hear. The noise is all I hear but all I can feel is my fucking body. I haven’t moved... I’m still in my tight ball on my bed, and I can’t fucking breathe! I cannot fucking BREATHE!

My heart is racing, and my breaths are completely shallow. I’m sweating bullets because of my anxiety, and because of the fuckin’ refeeding sweats... My chest feels so tight, and it burns with acid... It’s my fault for lying down but I don’t want to move! I don’t want to move but at the same time that’s all I fucking want to do right now!

I want to jump out of my skin... I’m gripping the pillow on my bed, because I can’t get my emotions to level out! I can’t calm down and there’s still a strong urge to throw something... I can’t do this. I can’t start doing shit like this...

I know what Rachel would be telling me right now.

_“Try doing a dialogue, James.”_

_“Talk back to your eating disorder self.”_

I can’t even access my healthy self right now! I know this is the perfect time to try to do one of those but how can I?!

“James?”

I can hear a woman’s voice but it sounds so far away. I can’t focus on that because all I’m hyper aware of right now is my fucking body and I NEED TO GET IT OFF OF ME—-

“James... James... Hey...”

A freezing cold sensation shoots up my arm, but everything else is still overpowering it. I can’t even move. I don’t want to look up. I don’t want to expose myself—

“Focus on how the frozen orange feels on your skin... I’m gonna guide you through some breathing techniques, okay?”

_NO! I can’t fucking breathe right now! I need to get out of here! Get it OFF—_

“Inhale for 1.... 2.... 3.... 4....”

“James... I promise you’re safe. This won’t last forever... You’re okay... James, you’re okay... Keep breathing with me...”

I could swear I hear two voices now... Who the hell is even with me right now? And... _why?!_

“Exhale for 5.... 6.... 7.... 8....”

I can feel my breaths becoming deeper, but my head is still so fuckin’ loud, and I still haven’t looked up, and I still can’t move, and I still need this to STOP—

“Alright... Good... You’re okay, James.”

_1.... 2.... 3.... 4...._

“Keep breathing... You’re doing great...”

_5.... 6.... 7.... 8...._

“You’re gonna get through this, James... Tell yourself what you tell all of your fans through your lyrics... Let yourself feel some of that hope...”

~ ~ ~

**DJ’s P.O.V:**

_**9:30pm** _

I should have just called James.... I could have avoided this whole shit show, but I didn’t....

I don’t know how much I drank... Things feel blurred... I’m still in the parking lot and it’s been hours.

I can swear I hear my phone vibrating, but I don’t want to answer it... I don’t want to do anything right now, but just stay here, huddled up in the front seat of my car...

If this is what it takes to not feel... _so be it._

I don’t want to feel _anything._


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Being vulnerable.... It feels gross, right?” I can see her biting her lip, as she thinks. “You’re not a person to express your feelings often... So they just fester inside.”
> 
> That’s... definitely true.
> 
> “When you don’t feel your feelings, they’re gonna come out in another way, whether you like it or not.”
> 
> That’s also definitely true.
> 
> “I... I know.” I laugh nervously, as I nod my head. “Obviously.”
> 
> “Do you think that maybe they came out in the form of that body dysmorphia attack?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello beautiful people!! It's time for the update (I get just as excited honestly... I'm a dork!) 
> 
> Don't really have much to say about this... I'll let ya see for yourselves ;)
> 
> WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:  
> ***body dysmorphia, alcohol, anxiety/dissociation, unstable moods***
> 
> ENJOY! 
> 
> (PS: I got my first tattoo over the weekend and i'm so happy :') )

**JAMES’S P.O.V:**

“I heard you had a rough night.”

My doctor is staring at me with concerned eyes, and I know she genuinely cares, but I don’t want to think about last night... I hardly remember it in the first place but I would rather not be reminded.

I force myself to answer, even though I can feel the uncomfortable tension in my body.

“Yeah... I guess.”

“Is this the first time you had an anxiety attack like that?”

It’s so early in the morning, and I hate having conversations like this, especially at this time...

Even though everything feels blurred from last night, I still feel vulnerable. I’m feeling _yucky_ in my skin, even though it’s the next day... It’s like those emotions festered from last night. They festered, and I’m sitting in them... At the same time, I feel completely drained, physically _and_ mentally.

“I...”. I scrunch my face up and blink a few times, trying to get myself to focus, when that’s the last thing I want to do right now. “I’m not sure.”

I can hear Dr. O take a deep breath.

“I’m not sure if you remember everything, because sometimes dissociation occurs during high anxiety... but the nurses reported that there was some self-mutilation...”

I automatically feel a chill run up my spine the second that she says that, because....

“Do you remember doing anything, James?”

I’ve dissociated before but not a lot, and whenever it did happen, I felt so fucking humiliated, and I didn’t think it was gonna happen again but apparently it did, and I don’t want to sit here right now.

_No._

_Nope._

_No._

“I know that for some patients with Bipolar disorder, dissociation is a frequent symptom...”.

I can feel Dr. O’s eyes on me, but I don’t want to look at her. I’m pretending to be distracted by staring at my uneven drawstrings on my sweatpants, but I’m pretty sure she knows what I’m doing. By now, everyone sees through my avoidance... At this point, why am I trying to be subtle about it?

“Have you experienced dissociation during manic episodes? Even depressive ones?”

I don’t want to talk about this... It’s a vulnerable topic, and all I’m getting reminded of is when I ran into traffic that one night... I don’t remember it. Nikki told me everything... My anxiety was so intense and my emotions were too escalated... I couldn’t think straight. I had no fuckin’ idea what I was doing.... But I did _that—_

“James?”

I’m met with my doctor’s big, blue eyes, as I snap my head up. You have no idea how much I want to run away right now...

You have _no_ fuckin’ idea.

“I need you to be honest with me..”. She’s still staring at me, and there’s a gnawing feeling in my stomach that won’t go away. “You’ve never been on any medication for your Bipolar disorder...”. She pauses. “Have you ever thought about that?”

_Medication?_

The pit in my stomach that I feel is just getting bigger, and now I’m starting to feel sick.

_Oh... god no._

I do my best to hide my anxiety, as I force the words out.

“Uh... Honestly... no.”

I can hear my doctor take a breath.

“I wanted to wait a little before bringing this up, but it seems like now is the right time to discuss this.”

Well, I don’t. I don’t think this is the right time for us to discuss this! There is never a right time to discuss this!

“I think it may be time to consider finding you a medication for this, James.”

My mind is screaming so loud right now.

_No! You can’t take medication! It’s gonna kill your personality, and your creativity, and your sense of self—_

“I... I think I’m okay.”

_You don’t know what the side effects could be and some doctors lie about this shit!_

There is some silence, except the voice in my head, until my doctor speaks again. This time she’s looking at me with gentle, empathetic eyes... Almost like a deer.

“James, how erratic would you say your moods have been?”

She knows I’m lying. She knows I’m avoiding, but I can’t help it! I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to talk about this, and I don’t want to go on medication—

“I... I mean.... I don’t know—“

I can feel my heart rate increasing more and more, and my urges to run are just getting stronger.

“James, I’m concerned that your inability to regulate your emotions may be affecting your recovery...”

I immediately shake my head, attempting to shrug off her concerns. I will literally do _anything_ to not have this conversation right now.

_Anything._

“I’m fine... I’m completing. I’m participating in groups—“

I can’t even finish my sentence before Dr. O shoots out a quick response.

“That is true, and I am so happy to see that...”. She pauses. “However, I know that you’re still struggling mentally. Wouldn’t you want to have something that could possibly make some of that noise in your head more bearable?”

I have such a strong urge to shake my head because that’s impossible! You can’t silence the noise in my head. That’s not possible—

“You’ve struggled with your moods for a long time... You’ve suffered enough. You deserve to feel some kind of serenity...”

_I don’t fuckin’ deserve anything, so I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about! Do you know me? Have you seen me?! Don’t you remember everything that you learned about me from my initial assessment when I was admitted here?_

_You are fuckin’ ridiculous!_

_I deserve to feel like this! I’m a piece of shit—_

I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here in silence now, but I can’t get myself to answer her. The words won’t come out, and I feel even more frozen than I did before.

I don’t even know why my doctor is still being patient with me. Honestly, hasn’t she had enough of my crap? I don’t get why _anyone_ would be willing to work with me.

I have a feeling that Dr. O can tell that I’m stuck in my head right now, because she’s giving me such a warm, empathetic, concerned look. She’s been doing this the whole time I’ve been with her, but right now it’s just so prominent.

“James...”. Her big eyes are glowing with such genuine compassion, and her voice is so gentle. “I know this is hard for you... Recovery is not an easy thing to go through, but you’re brave for deciding to come here and endure some really painful things.” I can almost feel the beginning of a tear forming in my eye as she speaks, and now there’s alarms going off in my head screaming for me to leave the room—-

“You have a fire burning in your soul, and you are resilient, whether you believe it yourself or not.” She pauses. “Recovery is hard, and it can feel like unbearable suffering at times... Wouldn’t you want to make it a tiny bit easier on yourself if you could?”

I hate this so much. I hate this because there’s that rational side of me that knows. It knows that medication would be helpful, but I’m fuckin’ _scared._

“Medication doesn’t mean you’re weak, James.” She’s shaking her head. “What you have is _chemical._ You can’t control the chemical imbalances in your brain that lead to your moods shifting drastically.”

I’m not sure how I ended up curled up into a ball on this chair, but I did... I just want to hide. This is so uncomfortable. Feeling stuff is uncomfortable... Feeling like I’m about to _cry_ is uncomfortable.

“You didn’t choose your bipolar disorder and you didn’t choose your eating disorder either...”

“....But, you _can_ choose to take steps that can make living with Bipolar disorder more manageable, which in the end will help support your eating disorder recovery.”

I can almost picture Nikki telling me the exact same thing... For some reason, that’s giving me a tiny sense of comfort.

And, deep inside, I know. I know that my doctor is right... I know she’s only suggesting this as a way to help me... And I also know that I’m really good at self-sabotaging... I know that by me avoiding something that might help, that I’m doing exactly that.

_Sabotaging._

How long am I gonna keep sabotaging myself? I’m here for a reason, and there’s no point of being here if I’m gonna be avoiding everything that’s necessary to get better.

“What do you say, James?”

“Are you willing to give it a try?”

After what feels like an eternity, I’m finally able to lift my head up to face her. Despite feeling so exposed right now, I can still get myself to connect to that little rationale that I have...

_What’s the worst that can happen if you try it, James? It can help you... I know you don’t like feeling this way, and you don’t need to live like this forever.... Give it a shot... You can always stop it if you’re not liking it..._

I take a deep breath, even though I can feel my body shaking.

“Okay...”. I nod my head, slowly, as my heart beats in my chest. “I’ll try...”

~ ~ ~

**DJ’s P.O.V:**

The second that I open my eyes, I feel blinded by the bright sunlight, and I feel a pounding pain in my head.

_God damn..._

I immediately squeeze my eyes back shut, because the brightness is too intense. It’s when I try to open them a second time and blink a few times that I realize where I am...

I’m still in my fuckin’ car, in the parking lot of the goddamn liquor store...

_What the hell happened last night?_

Jesus Christ, I must have drank a crap ton last night because everything feels blurred... _Except..._

It’s when I see my phone on my lap that I remember... Now I fuckin’ know why I did this, and how I ended up here, and how I had a fuckin’ breakdown—-

My train of thought is suddenly interrupted by the vibrating of my phone, and I don’t think I could name a time worse than now for someone to be calling me.

It’s _impossible._

I feel sick. My head hurts, my body hurts, and now my mind is racing. I have a feeling it’s Nikki callin’ me, and he’s probably wondering where the _fuck_ I am and where the fuck I was the whole night... _God._.. He could have called me multiple times and I had no fuckin’ idea...

Even though I’m extremely reluctant right now, I still somehow get myself to slide the bar on the phone to answer.

I clear my throat.

“Hello?”

The second that I open my mouth to speak, I cringe because of how groggy and raspy my voice sounds...

“DJ... Good to know you’re still with us!” I can hear the slight tone of humorous sarcasm in Nikki’s voice. “Where the hell have you been?”

I can feel myself tensing up, because I’m smart enough to know that even though he hasn’t said anything, Nikki still probably knows something is up... and I don’t want to talk about it. He can’t fuckin’ know!

“I...”. I squeeze my eyes shut for a second to try to block out the sharp wave of pain shooting through my head. “I ended up goin’ back to my place after getting a few things...”.

I feel like an ass for lying... especially to Nikki of all goddamn people, but look at me go...

_Piece of fuckin’ shit._

“I ended up passing out pretty early...”

I don’t think I’ve ever spit out such pathetic lies in my life until right now, and part of me is wondering why I’m even still talking. I should really just shut up but now I can feel myself beginning to ramble because my anxiety is starting to bubble up a teeny bit.

“And then... I kept waking up and couldn’t fuckin’ fall back asleep...”. I shake my head, and I really just want to smack myself. “I’m actually comin’ over to James’s.... Just gimme an hour or tw—-“

“DJ...”. I can hear Nikki take a deep breath in, as I feel chills shooting throughout my body. “You don’t need to explain yourself. You’re a grown man... If you wanted to go out, you could go out. If you needed some time to yourself, that’s fine.”

There is a period of silence that feels a bit uncomfortable, until he speaks again.

“I just want to make sure that you’re okay, alright? As long as you’re okay, that’s what matters.”

I feel a hollow forming in my stomach as he says that, because we all know that what I’m about to say is the opposite from the truth, but—-

“Oh...”. I let out a forced giggle that I think sounds lighthearted, even though I feel like I might get sick right now. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

I don’t give Nikki a chance to speak, before I spit out false reassurance. I just want this conversation to end so badly right now.

“I’ll see ya’ in a bit, okay?”

~ ~ ~

**JAMES’S P.O.V:**

_Two hours later_

Today is hard. Not gonna sugar coat it. This shit is fucking tough.

Emotions are tough. Body dysmorphia is tough. Food is tough. Exercise urges are tough... Purging urges are tough. Forcing food down my throat six times a day is tough. Therapy is tough... my _god._

_Everything_ is tough.

Ever since I had that meeting with my doctor about medication, I’ve been feeling so uneasy...

It’s been so hard to get myself out of my room to go to meals and groups because I just want to hide. That conversation was so fuckin’ uncomfortable and nerve wracking for me, so of course my instinct is to just crawl into a dark hole and not come out.

Look, I know that everything Dr. O said is right, but I’m just scared! I’m fuckin’ terrified to try something new... Something _unfamiliar..._

Unfamiliarity is scary because it’s something that I’m not used to. It’s something that I can’t predict... I can’t control... I have no idea what it’ll be like if I never experienced it before...

My anxiety has been horrible, and that’s making my hunger cues disappear almost completely. Meals are already hard enough even if I am hungry, although most of the time I think I misread my anxiety for hunger... Since I’m constantly anxious about when I’m gonna have to eat, I’m always obsessing over when the next meal is gonna be, so food thoughts flood my mind almost 24/7...

I don’t even know if I can trust any hunger cues I have; at least that’s what Eliza tells me. I’ve wrecked my body so much that it’s gonna take time for it to trust me again, and my perceptions of a lot of things are very skewed right now, but even so! If I’m not hungry at all, it is so fuckin’ hard to shove food down my throat, and then feel sick, and then want to fuckin’ purge!

I’m still having the disgusting sweats in the middle of the day, and I’ve gotten accused of exercising at least three more times... That really gets me, because I don’t think the staff have any idea of how much I want to fuckin’ give in and exercise!

They have _no_ idea!

Oh, and speaking of Eliza... She gave me another meal plan increase, as if that’s a fuckin’ shock! I’m not surprised... I honestly just expect it now every two days. It’s the same thing every time. I get an increase, and as soon as everyone sees that I’m able to eat that meal plan for ONE fuckin’ day, I get bumped up!

I’ve been trying to not obsess over it, but it’s hard... I have tried to reframe the thoughts though....

_ED Thought: I don’t need my meal plan increase_

_Healthy Self: Stop being your own dietician when there’s one you’re working with who knows her stuff. You have to trust her, she wouldn’t have been hired if she didn’t know what she was doing._

Doing that only works for so long though, because the eating disorder brain will just overpower any other part of me. It sucks. I guess I’ll just have to keep doing the exercises... as much as they feel tedious. Maybe they’ll work if I work with them, ya know...

~ ~ ~

**DJ’s P.O.V:**

The second that I walk through the doors of James’s house, I’m met with Nikki’s concerned face. He’s sitting at the kitchen table, and I’m already feeling the dread because I know he’s gonna ask questions...

I was so avoidant on the phone with him earlier and I would have to be fuckin’ stupid to think he’s just gonna ignore it.

“Hey.”

I smile to try to ease some of my tension, as I join him in the room.

“DJ...”.

I’m already beginning to regret my decision to come here because _fuck_... His voice is sayin’ it all.

I look like hell and Nikki fuckin’ knows it.

“I know you said you didn’t sleep the best last night, but dude...”. He pauses, and I can hear the concern in his voice. “You look exhausted...”. I can see him starting to scan me up and down. “Are you... feeling okay?”

Of course I don’t feel okay, but... I can’t let him know that, even though he probably already knows that... Ugh, _fuck!_

I do my best to shrug the concern off.

“Nikki.” I let out a laugh. “I already told you I’m fine... I could have slept better, but _come on._ ” I shake my head. “Everyone’s had a day where they sleep like shit but they survive, don’t they?”

A sudden sharp pain in my head leads me to scrunch my face up, and I really hope it wasn’t noticeable. I took painkillers hoping that the hangover headache would have subsided by now, but... apparently it didn’t work.

“I mean... Look at James!”

_Shit_ , I realize I’m rambling because of how uncomfortable I feel right now, but now the things that are coming out of my mouth keep getting more pathetic, and I’m just cringing so bad—

Nikki is just shaking his head at me and I can’t tell if he wants to roll his eyes, laugh, or interrogate me more... I still haven’t sat down, or moved from where I’ve been standing. I feel like a stoic statue right now.

“You’re pale... Your eyes are glazed over...”. I can hear Nikki take a breath before he looks me right in the eyes, and speaks in a direct, yet gentle tone.

“You’re hungover, aren’t you?”

I can feel my stomach drop and now I feel fuckin’ nauseous, not only from the hangover itself but also anxiety.

I can’t even open my mouth to answer because I feel frozen. Nikki can literally see through everything. _Everything_... and it’s not like I don’t understand why! He’s done it all... He just needs to look at someone for a split second and he can figure out what they’re up to!

_God damn..._

“DJ...” Nikki is signaling for me to join him at the table, but I still can’t move. “Talk to me... How much did you drink last night?”

Even though Nikki isn’t taking my bullshit, he still has that empathy in his voice. He’s not intimidating... He’s not pushy. He’s just...

“You can tell me.” He’s smiling. “I’m not gonna judge you.” He has his hand on the table, like he’s trying to lure a scared kitten into a safe place, but I can’t do it. I can’t move.

Instead, I crack a small smile, even though this situation feels excruciating.

“I had a few drinks.” I laugh a little and shake my head. “I mean, so what? You know me—“

“When you say _‘a few’_ , what do you really mean?”

I can feel my heart beginning to beat faster, and I’m trying to not fidget around. I don’t think I’m doing a good job. This is bad. This is not good right now—

“Dude, a few is a few.” I’m shaking my head. “You know, like three—“

“DJ...”.

Nikki is shaking his head again, and I feel like I’m about to jump out of my skin the longer that I force myself to stay in this room.

“Nobody looks like this after three drinks...”. I can hear him take a huge breath in, and I can hear the urgency in his voice as he continues.

“Look, I can tell how anxious you were feeling last night before you left the house... and I just want to make sure you’re okay, alright?”

Now my heart is pounding out of my chest, and I can feel my body getting hot, and the nausea is gettin’ worse—

“Nikki, I’m fine...”. I close my eyes and smile. “You don’t need to—“

“DJ, I _care_ about you, and I _know_ how hard everything that’s happened this past year has been...”.

Now I’m shaking my head because I can’t have this conversation right now. I can’t. I can’t!

“I promise I’m fine—“

I’m trying to speak calmly, but I’m literally the opposite of calm right now, and if I don’t get out of here soon I might end up getting sick all over the floor, and this can’t fuckin’ happen!

“I’m just here to remind you that if you need to talk about anything, I’m here—“

Nikki is still just staring at me with his empathetic, genuinely concerned eyes. I swear, they’re gonna burn a hole into my soul if I don’t get outta here!

“Nikki, I’m _fine—_ “

The second after I say that, I can feel the biggest wave of nausea wash over me, and now I have such a sense of urgency within me.

I attempt to take a deep breath to control the urge to barf, as I speak.

“I’ll... I’ll be right back.”

It doesn’t even take a second before I find myself in the bathroom... Downstairs in the studio... I almost didn’t make it to the toilet, but I did.

Thank god I did, otherwise I would have gotten sick all over the fuckin’ floor...

~ ~ ~

**JAMES’S P.O.V:**

“So...”. Rachel is smiling at me, as I feel myself fidgeting on my bed. “How are things goin?”

The joys of therapy... You would think that by now I would be a little less tense during my sessions, considering I’ve been having them five days a week, but honestly I still dread them.

I still feel reluctant because I know I’m gonna have to be vulnerable. Okay... I know I don’t actually _have_ to, but if I’m not there almost isn’t a point in being here. As much as I hate to say it, I have to be vulnerable if I want to help myself... even if I hate it.

“How’s your body dysmorphia?”

_Fuck_... Rachel must have read my mind or something; not like it’s the first time. It’s a little freaky actually... Sometimes I feel like she can just look at me for a split second and know what’s going on.

Despite all my rationale telling me that being vulnerable is part of the recovery process, I still can’t help but let that tiny bit of avoidance leak out of me, through my words.

“What?”

Rachel is already giving me a look that’s basically saying to cut the crap, and I almost want to laugh... I’m a piece of work.

“That panic attack last night...”. She is giving me a pensive stare, and I feel myself tensing up. “I’m curious what might have triggered that.”

_Ohhh great... Here we go... As if I didn’t have to talk about that fuckin’ episode enough already with Dr. O..._

I want to avoid so fuckin’ bad right now, but I’m gonna really try to stay. It’s a challenge, but I’m gonna try, even if it fuckin’ _kills_ me.

I shrug my shoulders, and furrow my brows as I hesitantly speak.

“I mean... I don’t know... Just being in my body...”

Rachel cracks a smile and shakes her head.

“I know that, but I mean having an episode to the extent that you had last night, James.” She lets out a light laugh. “You live in your body all the time, but I can guarantee that your emotions aren’t always _that_ intense...”

I hate to admit it, but she’s so right. My emotions are usually intense, but not like that. That’s not baseline for me... That was _terrifying._

“It’s not _actually_ about the body, James. There’s something under there, and that’s what I wanna help you figure out!” The smile that Rachel is giving me right now is full of excitement, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she started panting again like that one session.

“This is the fun stuff! Lets explore!”

I feel myself cringing so hard, because you know you’re about to go into some deep shit when your therapist gets this excited...

Obviously me and Rachel’s ideas of exploring are very, _very,_ different.

I can’t even spit out a response before she starts asking me questions.

“Didn’t you open up in group that day? Which... by the way, that’s fantastic! It’s about time!” She lets out a playful giggle, as I feel myself wanting to hide even more. “I hope you’re proud of yourself!”

_Oh yes! Proud! That’s exactly what I’m feeling... I’m sorry but the word ‘proud’ in regards to myself is definitely NOT in my vocabulary._

I force out a laugh in an attempt to ease the tension I’m feeling within.

“Don’t push it”

That receives an eye roll from Rachel, which I should have expected.

“Am I right though? You talked in group the same day that you had that episode?”

_Jesus_... She’s really serious about exploring this isn’t she? I’m not sure how me talking in group relates to my inability to regulate my emotions, but... _okay._

“I think so....”. I pause, as I furrow my brows. “What does that have to do with anything?”

There is a moment of silence, before Rachel answers, as she leans her face slightly closer to me.

“Well, how did it feel to finally open up?”

I can feel my eyes widen at that question, because this is very easy to answer. I don’t hesitate this time.

“Uncomfortable...”. The tension in my body is getting stronger as I speak. “Not fun.”

“Mhm...” Rachel slowly nods, and I can tell the gears in her head are starting to really turn. “You’ve been avoiding that for a while... People usually avoid things that are uncomfortable.”

_Yeah... no shit._

“Would you say that you felt... _exposed?”_

I can feel a chill run through my whole body, as I spit my answer out.

“Very.”

I don’t even have time to try to ease the internal discomfort, before Rachel shoots out another question.

“What makes being exposed uncomfortable for you, James?”

I swear, I feel a huge hollow in my stomach right now, and I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to run out of a room so badly in my life.

She’s digging. She’s really pushin’ it now, and I’m so uncomfortable. I don’t want to say any more... I really don’t. I really fuckin’ don’t—

I feel like there’s a game of tug of war going on in my brain... There’s the rational side of me saying to be honest and stay in the session. But then, that other side just wants to fuckin’ avoid and run away and not deal with this.

I know I’m taking so long to say something, and I feel like I’m about to jump out of my skin, and everything is just so loud right now, and I don’t know what I’m even doing—

“It just doesn’t feel right... I don’t know—“

I don’t even know how I got myself to speak, but of course avoidance slipped out... and Rachel fuckin’ knows it.

“I think you _do_ know.” She’s giving me a smile. “You’re a smart guy. I know that deep down you know.”

_Maybe I do know but I just don’t want to fuckin’ talk about it okay?_

_Just let me be!_

“Do you think that maybe that episode you had...”. Rachel looks like she’s thinking really hard right now, and that’s just making me even more anxious, because only god knows what else she’s gonna ask me. “Do you think there might have been a connection between that and you feeling uncomfortable earlier in the day?”

_What?_

I furrow my brows in confusion, because I’m not sure where she’s seeing these connections, and I also can’t focus well because of how my mind is racing.

I’m pretty sure Rachel can tell that I’m struggling to comprehend what she’s saying, because—

“Vulnerability feels _yucky_ to you right?”

I’m starting to feel really yucky inside just by hearing the word coming out of Rachel’s mouth... I force myself to nod my head anyway, even though I just want to resist.

“So, you were feeling a ton of _yucky_ emotions the whole day after exposing yourself in group...”. She’s staring at me with gentle eyes, as she speaks in a soft voice. “Where did those emotions go?”

“Nowhere.”

I can see Rachel’s eyes widen immediately after I spit out that answer. She looks like she just had a fuckin’ epiphany.

“Say that again?”

“Nowhere. They just stayed trapped in me—-“

Rachel cuts me off before I can say anything else. I’ve never seen a greater look of satisfaction on someone’s face.

“Exactly.” She's nodding slowly. “You sat with uncomfortable feelings that you didn’t want to feel... What did that feel like in your body?”

I am doing everything in my power to keep myself from groaning, because the more I stay sitting here, the worse the questions are getting, and I just have to keep going deeper and deeper...

“Horrible.”

I’m cringing, as Rachel gently pushes me to go further.

“Tell me more.”

I want to scream _‘NO!’_ so badly, but I don’t. Instead, I just let the words slip outta my mouth, as the yucky feelings from the other night leak out along with them.

“It felt horrible. Everything felt so fuckin’ horrible. I just wanted to crawl out of my skin, and my emotions were eating at me—-“

“Hold up. Stick with that.” I see Rachel leaning in closer, as she slowly repeats what I just said. “Your emotions were eating at you.” There is a slight pause before she speaks again. “Were those emotions the emotions from earlier in the day?”

I immediately shrug my shoulders.

“I don’t know—“

“Think about it, James.” She’s smiling at me. “Which emotions were eating at you?”

I take a deep breath in, even though it’s not relieving any of my tension... I bite my lip and start listing out every emotion that I felt and am beginning to feel right now.

“Anxiety... Disgust... Powerlessness... Helplessness... Vulnerability.—-“

I’m cut off by Rachel’s voice. She’s giving me a very curious look.

“Aren’t those the same feelings that you felt when you talked in group?”

I’m about to answer, but the therapist mind must be quick, because Rachel beats me to it every single time. Her head must be shooting out ideas right now, and she isn’t hesitating to share them with me.

“Being vulnerable.... It feels gross, right?” I can see her biting her lip, as she thinks. “You’re not a person to express your feelings often... So they just fester inside.”

That’s... _definitely_ true.

“When you don’t feel your feelings, they’re gonna come out in another way, whether you like it or not.”

That’s also _definitely_ true.

“I... I know.” I laugh nervously, as I nod my head. “Obviously.”

“Do you think that maybe they came out in the form of that body dysmorphia attack?”

My eyes immediately widen the second after Rachel says that, because.... _what the hell—-_

“Uh...”. I can’t even formulate a response to fully express how I’m feeling. “I... I...”

_What?!?!?!?!?_

I don’t even think I can comprehend any of this, because it doesn’t make sense! _How_ could that be?!

_How_ could my distorted body sensations be because of my emotions?!

“I know it might sound crazy to you, James.” Rachel is patting my shoulder with a smile. “This is the real work, buddy. Get used to it.”

Okay... Even though I want to argue and ask how this can even be true, there’s a small part of me that realizes...

Maybe there _is_ a connection.

“Ponder it for a little bit today...”. I see Rachel giving me a big smile, as she begins making her way out of my room. “Reflect on it, journal your thoughts, and we’ll talk all about it tomorrow!”

~ ~ ~

**NIKKI’S P.O.V:**

_Fine._

So many people use that word to avoid things... It’s such a common, habitual thing... Someone asks how you are, and you don’t want to go into detail so you just say you’re fine. Someone asks how your day went, and you’ll just say, _‘It was fine._ ” How you’re feeling? _Oh, I’m fine! Thanks for asking!_

When I hear someone say the word _‘fine’_ , do you know what I hear?

_Frantic_

_Insecure_

_Neurotic_

_Emotional_

_Fine_ is a way of running away. It’s a way to deflect, push away, distract, and avoid. It’s a way to not have to deal with things that are uncomfortable to talk about. I get it... I understand. I understand what it’s like to have all of these uncomfortable emotions inside of you, and I know how difficult it is to let others know you’re in pain.

That’s what _fine_ is.

_Fine_ is hiding your true feelings from the people who see you.

_Fine_ is refusing to be vulnerable and opening yourself up because it’s terrifying to show the real, raw parts to other people.

_Fine_ is a cover up.

_Fine_ is a way to keep putting up the façade that everything is okay when it really isn’t.

I’m all too familiar with this deflection technique. Although I’ve never really presented it in this way, I had my addiction as a way to cover up my suffering... It really wasn’t covering anything up though, because everyone saw through my lies whenever I was confronted. I didn’t say I was _fine_... I lashed out instead, and ran away by injecting... But I was still trying to avoid.

I always have a sense when things aren’t okay, especially when it has to do with people I am extremely close with, but because I’ve been through my own shit, it is very easy for me to see through the many facades that we are so accustomed to putting on.

I’ve seen it with James, throughout this whole year... I’m still seeing it with him, because that’s his nature. He doesn’t ask for help, and he has that big _people-pleasing_ part of him that won’t allow him to be vulnerable in fear of disappointing or upsetting people. Of course shame plays another huge role...

The thing is that I’ve seen this with James, and it’s become expected... It _is_ expected. It’s not a good thing, but I know he’s working on it... However, it’s still so strongly engrained in his nature that it’s something that we assume.

DJ is different. DJ usually expresses his feelings pretty openly. He usually feels comfortable enough to say what he believes and how he feels, but... not now.

I’m seeing him show the _‘I’m fine’_ mentality more and more lately, and that’s very unlike him. I know he’s having a rough time, and he’s not being open about it. I will never push anyone to do anything if they aren’t ready, but I know how pain feels. I know how it feels and I know how things end if they’re not dealt with.

DJ has been so affected by this whole situation... maybe more than I have, or even James. He’s been affected in a different way, and he probably feels vulnerable. Maybe he’s confused... Maybe he doesn’t know what’s going on with him... What he doesn’t know is that there isn’t anything wrong with him.

What the three of us experienced this year was traumatic, and before anyone says anything, I’m putting this out here first.

Trauma is trauma.

Watching someone you love and care about hurt themselves is traumatic. Being forced to sit and let it happen without being able to do anything about it is traumatic. Having an addiction of any kind is traumatic. Trauma isn’t just abuse, or death, or a natural disaster...

Trauma is trauma.

Everyone deals with trauma differently, and usually it manifests in the form of anxiety. I’ve known about DJ’s anxiety since the beginning, but it’s gotten a lot worse, but I know he’s not comfortable talking about it. I completely understand, and at the same time, I’m concerned about him.

Sometimes I forget how much DJ actually witnessed through this whole thing. Sometimes I think he might have seen too much...

DJ is the one who found James’s laxatives... He saw him exercising in the middle of the night and kept this in until he decided to confide in me about it... He actually witnessed James purging during our album release party... It wasn’t just him knowing... He heard it happening. He was in the bathroom while it was happening... And of course... DJ was the one that found him unconscious that night.

None of these instances were predictable. They were all sudden and anyone would have been thrown for a loop if they were smacked in the face like that.

I would almost be more concerned if he wasn’t affected in any way by any of this. I would expect anxiety. I would expect the way he’s acting... I just know things have gotten worse, and I hate to say that it makes sense. Things like this leave extremely deep scars on those who’ve witnessed them... and DJ has some pretty deep wounds that are really eating at him.

I’m concerned because I know this isn’t just the general anxiety anymore. I know he isn’t being honest with me about his suffering... Even though he’s not saying anything, I can see what it’s doing to him.

He’s not himself. Sometimes he is, but I see how he spaces out periodically. It’s dissociation... It’s a survival mechanism that your brain uses in an attempt to protect you from feeling scary emotions. DJ’s anxiety is so intense that it’s hard to handle it, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s having flashbacks or disturbing memories come up at times.

I can see it in his eyes. I see how he tries to avoid eye contact when he’s anxious, or when I gently try to talk to him. Body language speaks way louder than words do so much of the time, and it’s so prominent with him. It hurts my heart because I can _feel_ it. I can almost feel his pain, because my childhood was filled with trauma... it was a different kind, but the reactions were the same.

Hyper-vigilance is almost constant, and it’s a terrible feeling. It’s that feeling of always preparing for the worst, and waiting for the other shoe to drop. With post traumatic stress, you really never know when flashbacks or memories will pop up... They just do, and there are certain triggers, but unless you’re aware of those triggers, everything will seem so unpredictable and scary.

DJ is usually open about things, but I can see how this is different for him. This is taking vulnerability and fear to a whole new level... This is insanely scary and new to him. The thing with trauma is that even though the traumatic event is over, the memories aren’t.

The memories don’t leave.

The memories stay with you.

They stay with you, and fester, and haunt you...

They’ll eat away at you until you work through them.

If you don’t work through them, they will destroy you... The emotions will come out in a different way, and we all know how that can go...

If you don’t deal with your demons, they will deal with you, and it’s gonna hurt.

The fact of the matter is that DJ is hurting horribly right now, but he’s trying to cover it up.

He’s not _fine._

He’s not okay at all, and I’m here for him for when he’s comfortable talking about it. I won’t push him, but my concern is that he’s dealing with this alone, and I’m scared that he might begin to cope in a maladaptive way, if he hasn’t started to already...

Watching one of your closest friends struggling is hard... But now, having to watch both of them... it can feel excruciating.

It _is_ painful.

I’m here to be real. I may look like I have things put together all the time... That doesn’t mean I’m not feeling things.

Mentoring definitely has its beauty and its darkness... Right now that darkness is peeking out a bit.

However, I know that there is always some way to find beauty in whatever pain you’re enduring...

Hopefully all three of us can find that beauty soon.

~ ~ ~

**JAMES’S P.O.V:**

_Four hours later:_

I need today to be over... If I have to sit through another fuckin’ group and force another fuckin’ meal down my throat without crying... I just can’t do it!

I can’t do it because now I’m back in my room again... I’m feeling all the same sensations and emotions that I did last night when I came out of the shower! It’s happening _again._

I don’t want to be around anyone. I don’t want anyone to see me or hear me or witness me being a fuckin’ mental case... A fuckin’ disgusting, repulsive, piece of _shit—-_

Rachel wants me to journal... Well, I’ll fuckin’ journal! If that’s what she wants I’ll do it, but this is what she’s gettin’ because this is where my head is at right now and don’t even give a fuck if it’s rational or disordered... I feel _trapped!_

I can’t focus on reflecting on our fuckin’ session, because I’m too focused on how horrible everything feels right now! That’s what I’ll write about... If I can get a pen in my hand without shaking and ripping the pages out of the notebook...

~ ~ ~

Well, it took me four fuckin’ attempts to start writing... I never thought putting a pen to paper would be so freakin’ hard to do, but when your emotions are as intense as mine are right now, it’s an arduous task...

_12-21-2016_

_I’ve never journaled in my life, but here I go I guess..._

_FUCK EVERYTHING!_

_Everyone notices my body changing and my appearance getting more repulsive and disgusting - if that is even fucking possible... All my urges are extremely high because of this shit, and I don’t feel safe in my own skin and body. I shouldn’t have to live in a body that I wish didn’t belong to me. I shouldn’t have to feel unsafe in my own fucking body. I want to crawl out of my skin. Rip the skin off- rip it all off of me. Let me escape my body, my shell, my thoughts... let me escape my mind._

_Sometimes I feel like nothing around me is safe. My body isn’t safe. My mind isn’t safe. My thoughts and beliefs aren’t safe. What I see when I look in the mirror isn’t safe. This place isn’t safe. My room here is not safe. Is anything safe to me right now? Nope._

_I am not safe._

_I don’t want to live in this body any-more._

_I don’t want to feel these emotions!_

_I don’t want to take medication!_

_I don’t want to do any of this!_

_This is too fuckin’ hard..._


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a few more moments of silence, and watching James stare blankly at the wall, I begin to make out a sniffly noise. I immediately look up and see that James is biting his lip lightly, as I notice a single tear drip down his face, that leaves me with a chill shooting up my spine.
> 
> I know how vulnerable he must feel right now, so I don’t say anything. I don’t want to push him, and make him more uncomfortable than he already is, since what he’s feeling is horrible enough. Instead, I lean in close to him, and begin to rub soothing circles onto his back. I want him to know that I’m here to listen, and that he’s safe with me... I won’t ever judge. I’ve been through shit like this... He knows that he can tell me anything.
> 
> “It’s... It’s hard.” James’s voice is shaking, and laced with so much internal pain.
> 
> “It’s so fuckin’ hard...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is long, but i had a lot of fun with it... (its a good mix of seriousness and comic relief)!
> 
> ***WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER***  
> ***anxiety/dissociation, PTSD symptoms, eating disorders, alcohol, self-deprecation, feelings of guilt/shame, disordered thoughts***
> 
> as always, thanks so much for all of the support! it means more to me than you will ever know !!
> 
> (PS: if you haven't listened to DJ Ashba's new solo song (feat James michael on vocals) you SO should!!! it's EDM but i'm honestly OBSESSED with it atm!! and get this... he asked fans to submit videos of themselves dancing to put in the music video and GUESS WHO MADE IT IN???? --- i was at work and saw the video teaser and almost stopped breathing!)
> 
> Anyway... ENJOY!

**JAMES’S P.O.V:**

**_Four days later_ **

“James... We need to talk about your menus.”

I can feel myself fidgeting in my seat, as Eliza looks at me with an expression that means business.

“Uhh...”. I’m doing my best to hide my nervousness, but I’m failing pathetically at the moment. “What about them?”

“Well... I’ve been noticing a pattern...”

I can already feel the dread... I have a feeling I know what she’s about to say, and I am _not_ ready for this.

“You’ve been choosing similar, if not the same foods on all of your menus since you’ve been here.”

I feel like I just got smacked in the face, and I totally did... with the fuckin’ _truth..._

I can’t even answer her. I’m just sitting here awkwardly trying to pretend this conversation isn’t happening right now, but we all know I can’t get away with avoiding anything... especially with the dietitian around...

“Am I wrong?”

Eliza is staring at me, and her eyes are about to burn a hole into my soul... My very exposed, uncomfortable, and avoidant soul.

I let out an awkward laugh, as I open my mouth to speak. “I mean... No...”

“Has anyone ever told you that _variety is the spice of life?”_

I’ve never seen my dietitian smile so big before until now, and there’s a part of me that really has an urge to roll my eyes at her cheesy saying.

“Uh....”. I raise my eyebrows. “No.”

“Well, I’m here to tell ya...” Her smile gets wider as she speaks in an enthusiastic voice. “Variety is the spice of life!”

I... really can’t handle being in this room right now. This is so cringe, and uncomfortable, and.... _cringe..._

I let out a light sigh, to keep myself from groaning, and decide to just cut to the chase so I can hopefully get outta here quicker.

“What are we gettin’ at here?”

Eliza licks her lips before answering, with a smile on her face.

“You’ve been here for three weeks! It’s time to start switching things up, James.”

_Fuck... See... I knew it._

_I fucking knew it._

I can see her taking out a pile of menus, as she continues.

“Life is boring when we do the same thing all the time!”

_Yeah... but it’s also comfortable._

_And..._

_Safe._

The dread that I felt earlier is just stronger now, because I knew that this was fuckin’ coming... I didn’t know when, but I’m smart enough to know that eventually someone was gonna confront me about this...

Why does it have to be right now though?!

“But...”. I can feel myself beginning to protest, as the anxiety is creeping up inside of me. “I’m eating everything I choose... Why does it matter if I eat the same things?”

“Well...” Eliza pauses, as she looks at me. “There’s lots of reasons, James...”

I can feel the tension in my body before she even starts listing the reasons off... Every time I go into a session... no matter what kind, I always want to fuckin’ run away.

It doesn’t matter if I’m talking to Rachel, or Eliza, or Dr. O... They all love to have discussions about things that are fuckin’ _uncomfortable._

“If you’re not eating a wide variety of foods, you won’t get all of the necessary vitamins and minerals that your body needs to thrive at its best.”

I automatically spit out a resistant remark, as I feel myself cringe even more.

“But, Dr. O makes me take a multivitamin every morning—“

“It’s not the same...”. Eliza is shaking her head. “You’re always better off getting your vitamins from food... The pill is really supposed to be used as a vitamin _supplement._ ”

_Ugh.... Fuck._

“Your body absorbs vitamins from food way more efficiently than the ones in the multivitamin...”. She smiles. “Not to mention, if you get them from food, you’re getting vitamins from things that actually taste good!”

She winks at me, but I still just want to leave. This isn’t fuckin’ helping. None of this is helping!

“I know you don’t wanna hear this, but choosing the same foods over and over again keep you stuck in a little bubble...” Eliza looks like she’s thinking hard, and I already know she’s about to get deep...

_I’m not havin’ this..._

_I am not havin’ this right now._

“If you keep doing the things that are too comfortable, changes can’t happen...”

_God_... She sounds like Nikki. Nikki would be saying this to me right now, I swear to god.

That’s not making any of this easier for me though... I can’t help but resist. I just _can’t—_

“Can’t I just give it like.... one more week?”

My eyes are probably full of pure terror right now, because that’s what I’m feeling... _Terror._

It’s pathetic to admit that this feels absolutely _terrifying._

“James... “ I can hear Eliza let out a sigh, as she looks at me with gentle eyes. “I was gonna bring this up earlier but I didn’t want to overwhelm you... I usually don’t even give clients this much time...”. She’s raising her eyebrows at me and I want to look away. “I let you off the hook for a while.”

“But... “ My eyes are widening and I feel like my heart is about to pop outta my chest. “I... I’m not ready—“

I can feel my body freezing up, because I can’t believe I just said that. I can’t believe I just said that.

_Fuck._

_Why did I say that?!_

Now I just want to hide even more than I did before... My anxiety is gettin’ so bad and I’m about to jump outta my fuckin’ skin—

“Let’s talk about it...”. Eliza is giving me an empathetic look, as she leans in slightly closer to me. “What’s scaring you so much about switching things up?”

_Uh... a whole fuckin’ lot!_

My whole body is swimming in uncomfortable emotions right now. I’m anxious, and scared, and vulnerable, and I don’t want to be here right now—

“I... I just...”. I feel like I’m about to choke on my words, but they start shooting out of my mouth at a rapid speed. “Eating what I’m eating now is already so hard and I’m _hardly_ comfortable eating what I’m choosing, and there’s just so much shit on the menus that I’m not ready to have yet, and I just...” I can’t help but start begging because I feel so fuckin’ desperate right now. “Eliza, _please—_ “

“I understand that this is scary... It’s normal, James.” The look of empathy painted on Eliza’s face is so genuine, that part of me feels like such a piece of shit for trying to get outta this, but at the same time... I can’t help it because of how high my panic is right now. “What are the fears around trying something new? What do you think is going to happen if you switch something up?”

My eyes are darting around the room right now, and I’m trying to look anywhere but at her—

“I mean... I don’t know... I’m just not comfortable—“

“I know... But that’s part of recovery! Doing the things that are uncomfortable.”

I can feel myself hiding deeper and deeper into my big sweatshirt. I hate hearing the fuckin’ truth, especially when I know it’s the truth... and I can’t run away from it.

Eliza must have read my fuckin’ mind, and I automatically cringe even more as she continues slamming me with the hard facts.

“I know you hate hearing that, but if it doesn’t challenge you, it won’t change you.” Her eyes are full with concern. “Being uncomfortable won’t kill you, as much as you think it will.”

_God.... if that ain’t the truth._

“What are you thinking?”

I haven’t said anything because my mind is racing so fast right now, and I don’t even know if I would be able to put the thoughts into words... I don’t think I can form a coherent sentence because of how fast my thoughts are spiraling now—

_You can’t fucking change things up! You can’t! You can’t fuckin’ do that! The foods you’re eating right now aren’t as bad as the others on the menu and you know for a goddamn fact that when Eliza means switching things up, she’s talking about making you eat all of those BAD foods._

_You’re gonna get contaminated!_

_You’re gonna get poisoned!_

_Your body is gonna get clogged up and not function the right way!_

_You can’t fuckin’ do that!_

_She can’t make you do that!_

Somehow, I’m able to spit words out, despite feeling like I’m about to break down right now.

“I’m overwhelmed.”

My face is almost completely hidden in the hood of my sweatshirt now, and if I thought I was curled up tight before, well... If you saw me now...

“It’s okay to be anxious, James. This is a challenge, but I know that you can do it.”

_No! I can’t! I can’t fuckin’ do it! Are you kidding me?! You have no idea! You have no idea how much I can’t do this—_

“I... don’t think I can...”

“I want you to remember that whatever your eating disorder mind is telling you will happen if you eat new foods is _not_ true...”. She’s speaking in a gentle, yet direct tone. I know she’s trying to get my rational voice to come out. “No food has the capability to harm you. No food will _ever_ hurt you. Nothing is going to happen to you if you try something new, and once you start doing little challenges, and keep on doing them, they will get easier...” She pauses. “But you have to start somewhere.”

Despite my racing heart and intense anxiety, I still make an attempt to take a breath to try to calm myself down. I close my eyes, as I hear Eliza’s soothing voice.

“We’re not gonna go all crazy, alright. I’m not gonna throw everything at you... We’ll do little switches, okay?” I open my eyes and see her gathering a new pile of menus. “I already made some changes to your menus for this week, but I don’t want you to obsess over it too much... They’re just some basic switches, like a different kind of cereal at breakfast and different fruits—“

“I hate that just thinking about switching anything is freaking me out this much.” I can feel frustration and anger beginning to bubble inside of me as I blurt out my thoughts. I’m biting my lip so hard right now. “No one fuckin’ gives a shit, and then here I am...” I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my jaw. “How did this even happen—“

“James.”

Eliza’s voice cuts through my self-deprecation, but now my mind is racing again with anxiety and I can’t fuckin’ do this!

I CAN’T DO IT!

“I can’t do it. I can’t do it. Please don’t make me do it—“

“James, take a breath...”

I suddenly snap my head up at Eliza, who’s looking at me with such concern, but also passion... Nurture...

“Remember, if you need to use the ensure, you still have that option...”

“All that I ask is that you _try_ , okay?”

~ ~ ~

**_Three days later:_ **

Things are... _not_ going well.

Part of me really wants to scream at Eliza for making me switch things up... I know it’s not supposed to be easy, but I’m not handling it well at all! I should have asked to see the changes that she made on my menus when I had the session with her the other day, but I didn’t, and now I’m mad at myself... It probably wouldn’t have made much of a damn difference but at least I would have been a little bit more prepared for what was coming for me...

She said we were doing small changes. I don’t know what world she’s living in when she said _small_ changes, because these are definitely not small changes. Every time I go to a meal now, I’m so close to having a full on breakdown right there. I mean... meals were already fuckin’ hard, but now they’re even more excruciating, because I don’t know what the hell I’m walking into!

She’s switching things around like there’s no tomorrow! The other day I had a full breakdown when I went into lunch and saw that my baked chicken had been switched to chicken fingers... Of all goddamn things, it had to be that! Fried foods scare the absolute crap out of me and nothing could have been worse than that... To say that meal was a complete shit show would be an understatement... Somehow, I still got myself to be able to force it down, but it took forever... It took forever because I was fuming with anger inside, and my anxiety made my appetite completely disappear. I tried my best to hold in all of my emotions during the meal, but once I got back to my room it was a completely different story.

I slammed my door shut the second I got in there, and I swear to god I felt venom seeping out of my body. I was shaking with fury and I didn’t know how to calm myself down... so I didn’t. I ended up punching my wall so hard that I made a hole in it...

Before I knew it, there were two nurses and a tech in my room, and I just stood there waiting for them to leave... That didn’t happen. Instead, I was brought to a conference room, and the next thing I know, I had Dr. O talking to me about upping my mood stabilizers.... which, by the way... I’m _really_ not a fan of...

The first few days on them were horrible because of how out of it and disconnected I was. I was falling asleep in groups for fucks sake! At least now my body is getting a little more used to them, but still... the fact that I did something so impulsive that a medication increase was brought up is just _slightly_ embarrassing... definitely not one of my best moments.

Anyway... back to the food.

Eliza’s also been a fan of adding desserts to my meals and that’s been a fuckin’ _trip_. I’ve had to drink the Ensure for most of them, like the brownies, or cookies, or cake... because I’m too fuckin’ terrified to try them. The only thing I was closest to being remotely comfortable with was angel food cake... which really isn’t _real_ cake... That’s the only _dessert_ I’ve actually eaten without supplementing...

The point is... I don’t know how to handle the menu switches! They scare the fuckin’ shit outta me, and things are just getting worse... _mentally._

On another note... Rachel wanted me to ask Nikki and DJ to come to multi-family group tomorrow... I gotta be honest... I’m not sure how I feel about that, but they already said they’re coming, and I know that there’s no way they’ll change their mind even if I tried to make them...

I also need to stop being an avoidant, piece of shit... Maybe this will be a _good_ thing...

~ ~ ~

_**The next day:** _

_**1:00pm** _

I’m snapped out of my train of thoughts by a knocking on my door. I’m not gonna lie and say that I’m not caught off guard.

Even though I fuckin’ hate fillin’ out these menus, I had gotten myself so focused on trying to do it that even a knock on the door made me jump.

_That’s pathetic..._

I snap my head up and see DJ and Nikki standing in the crack of the door. I can’t help but smile... I didn’t realize the time.

“Well, look at what the cat dragged in!”

I signal for them to come in, as I continue trying to finish this menu. I know I should give myself a break, but I’m so anxious about what Eliza told me... How I need to switch my foods up... even though I’ve been doing that... She wants me to _continue_ choosing different foods every time I fill a menu out, and I would rather be able to make the changes myself without her doing it for me. I just want to get it over with so then I won’t have to think about it until tomorrow...

“Whatcha got there?”

I can see DJ’s curious face hovering over me, and I just realized that he’s probably so fuckin’ confused. I’ve never worked on my menus during visiting hours so neither one of them have seen me try to fill one out..

I can’t help but sigh because I really _don’t_ want to be doing this right now but—

“My dietitian’s makin’ me fill out my menus early for this week...”. I take a breath to try to ease some of my internal tension. “She wants me to have more _variety_ in what I choose to eat...”

I let out a light laugh as I shake my head.

“Not gonna lie... I hate fillin’ these things out.”

“Well, lemme help ya!” DJ reaches his hand over to me, as he starts looking at the paper. “Just tell me how to do it an—-“

I automatically shake my head, because I’m already anxious as it is... I just need to do it myself, and plus... DJ shouldn’t have to spend his time visiting by helping me fill out _stupid_ menus.

“You really don’t need to ma—“

“Dude!” I see DJ pointing to the condiment section at the bottom of the paper with an excited look on his face. I can’t help but laugh, because he looks like a little kid who just got offered a shit ton of candy. “Do the Buffalo Ranch!” Now he’s staring at me as he continues pointing to it. “That shit’s bomb!”

“Uhhh...”. I can feel my heart beating out of my chest. “No thanks...”

DJ automatically furrows his brows at me, as he continues to enthusiastically explore the menu.

“Why not? You can mix it with ketchup, and salt, and pepper when you put it on your veggie burg—-“

I close my eyes and shake my head. I can’t hold in my laugh... He has _no_ idea...

“Bro.” I look up at him, and raise my eyebrows. “We’re only allowed _two_ condiments...”

You should see DJ’s face right now. His eyes look like they’re about to pop right out of his sockets, and that’s just making me want to laugh even more.

“What?! Why?”

I roll my eyes.

_“God only knows...”_

I get a laugh outta DJ, and I could swear I smell alcohol on his breath. I can feel a tiny pit forming in my stomach...

I’ve been concerned about him, and every time I see him, the worry gets stronger. I want to say something, but at the same time I don’t... I don’t want to put him on the spot like that and ruin the visit... But at the same time—

I can’t even say anything before I hear a knock on my door, and see a tech peeking her head through.

“Group is starting, guys!”

I feel my body tense up, and I take a deep breath...

This is gonna be... _interesting._

~ ~ ~

The second that the three of us start making our way into the group room, I can already feel everyone’s eyes on me. I’m literally begging in my head right now for everyone to act natural and not make a big deal about this... It’s not because I’m not happy to know people are fans. Its just... This whole situation is so awkward and uncomfortable; me being in treatment and everyone knowing about it. I don’t want it to be even more uncomfortable.

“Welcome to Family and Relationships group!”

Well, it turns out that Rachel isn’t running the group. I’m not sure why I thought she was, but I did... I’m not sure why I feel slightly uncomfortable about the fact that it’s not her either.

I slowly make my way onto a chair, and signal for DJ and Nikki to take the seats next to me, but I’m stopped by the therapist.

“We actually want your visitors to sit _across_ from you...”. She’s speaking loud enough for everyone to hear, so I guess it’s not just applying to me specifically. “It’s part of the exercise we’re going to do.”

I can make out DJ’s body from my peripheral vision, and I can almost feel his tension. I bite my lip slightly, because it’s hard to see him like this... I know he wants to be close to me, and I hate that he’s uncomfortable right now... At least he has Nikki with him, I guess.

Once everyone and their visitors are settled in the room, the therapist, who I now recognize as the one who runs our DBT groups, begins speaking.

“Thank you all for joining us today! This is a group that we have once a week, and the purpose is to get friends and family involved in what goes on in their loved ones treatment!” She smiles. “We want you to be part of it, and get to better understand the philosophy of recovery.”

I can see Nikki crack a smile, because if anyone here knows the philosophy of recovery, it’s that fucker. I can’t help but smile back, and wink, because you gotta ease the tension somehow, right?

“Today’s group is going to be focused on _communication..._ ”

As the therapist is explaining the group, I can’t help but think about DJ... He looks a little disconnected and not really _with_ it.

“Alright! Who wants to start?”

_Fuck._

This is a bit embarrassing, considering I’m not completely sure what we’re supposed to do... I blink a few times to get myself back to the present, as I begin to listen to other patients talking to their visitors...

It makes sense now... I get it. We’re supposed to practice assertive communication, using _“I”_ statements... Expressing emotions and feelings... My _favorite—_

“James?” I’m met with the therapist’s smiling face. “Would you like to go next?”

_No. Not really, but what the hell am I supposed to say?_

“Uh...”. I smile. “Sure.”

I look over at Nikki and DJ, as I take a deep breath and start speaking.

“I felt very grateful when you guys showed up here earlier today.”

_I... really hope I did that right..._

“Nice job, James.” The therapist is looking at DJ now. “Is there anything that you want to say to James?”

DJ doesn’t even hesitate before he starts speaking.

“I felt very happy when you told me that you ate _cake_ the other day—-“

Almost immediately after that comes out of his mouth, I could swear I feel the tension in the room cutting like a knife.

The worst part of this is that DJ has no fuckin’ idea that he’s not allowed to say specific names of foods here...

I feel myself starting to fidget around, because this is the most ridiculous rule out of all of the rules here, and of course now poor DJ is gonna get the wrath for it—-

“Please be mindful of your language, DJ.”

_Oh Jesus Christ..._

There’s a huge part of me that wants to roll my eyes so hard right now and laugh, but at the same time... _God_ , I’m feeling secondhand embarrassment right now, only cause this is so awkward.

DJ is furrowing his brows and he looks so confused... I kinda just want to tell him to not worry about it because of how dumb the rule is, but I can’t shit talk the treatment center out loud... That would be horrible.

“We try not to use specifics here.”

It’s the way that the therapist is redirecting him that’s getting me... I’m cringing so hard right now... maybe even harder than DJ himself, and I didn’t even do anything!

Without even specifying what kind of “specifics” he can’t use, I’m pretty sure DJ gets the gist of what he did wrong, and _oh my god_... You should literally see his face right now. His eyes look like they’re gonna pop outta his sockets, and he’s about to open his mouth. I know it.

_DJ, please don’t argue with her... I’m literally begging right now. Please just let this go..._

Nikki must be thinking the same thing as me, because he’s looking at DJ with a fatherly expression, but he also looks like he means business.

“Wait....”. I can’t tell if DJ looks like he wants to laugh or scream more. “We can’t say names of food here...?”

I know I’m starting to blush because my body is getting hot. Part of me wants to run out of this room, only because this situation is drawing even more attention to me and I don’t want the attention put on me! This is making everything so awkward.

I can see Nikki nudging DJ, and it was supposed to be subtle, but unfortunately DJ isn’t letting it be.

“I mean... really?” He’s shrugging his shoulders and looks so shocked. He sounds like he’s about to start laughing. “It’s just _food_.”

“DJ... Let it go.”

Nikki literally looks like a dad trying to calm his rowdy kid down. He’s talking in a hushed tone but I can still hear him. I almost want to laugh, but at the same time I want to scream.

Everyone is just staring at me now, even though I’m not saying a goddamn word! They’re probably just mesmerized by the fact that _the_ Nikki Sixx is in the room right now...

...or maybe they’re just finding this whole thing really entertaining.

_Who knows?_

After a few moments of awkward silence, and mesmerized stares from everyone in the room, the tension is broken by the therapist, who is scanning the area.

“I’m noticing that most of you are expressing positive emotions...”. She looks like she’s thinking hard as she speaks. “Positive emotions tend to be more comfortable to express. I would like to challenge someone to try expressing an emotion that maybe isn’t so comfortable...”

I can feel a pit in my stomach because there is no way in hell that I’m doing it... It’s not happening... It’s _not_ happening—

“Does anyone want to volunteer?”

_No._

There is absolute silence in the room right now and it feels deafening, until Nikki speaks.

“I’ll do it.”

Okay... To be honest... I’m _really_ not surprised about Nikki being the only one here willing to do something uncomfortable.

“Alright!” The therapist is smiling. “Go for it!” She looks at me and then back at Nikki. “What would you like to tell James?”

There is a period of uncomfortable silence that’s eating at me from the inside out, until Nikki begins speaking. He’s looking at me straight in the eyes, and I already know that what he’s about to say isn’t gonna be the easiest to hear.... because... He’s Nikki... ya know...

“I felt...”. I can hear Nikki take a deep breath and he closes his eyes for a second before he continues. “I felt really scared when I watched you deteriorating, especially because I genuinely didn’t know if we would see the end of this year....”

I can feel myself disconnecting already... Everything is feeling a little bit blurred, and I feel so... so.... so....

_Vulnerable._

There is nothing but dead silence after a few moments, and it feels excruciating... I can feel a tiny lump beginning to form in my throat and the shame is starting to wash over me...

“Thank you for sharing, Nikki.”

The therapist is giving him an empathetic look, and she’s speaking in a gentle tone.

“I know that probably wasn’t easy. That was very brave of you.”

I feel frozen in my seat, and I’m not sure when I started to curl into myself, but I have... and... I... I want this group to be over now...

“How do you feel after hearing that, James?”

_What?_

The therapist is staring at me with compassionate, gentle eyes, but all I want to do is look away. Actually, everyone is looking at me and I’m starting to feel boxed in—

“I...”. I can feel my voice shaking. “I feel... _heartbroken_ knowing that you felt that...”

I can hardly get the words out of my mouth and I feel like I’m about to get _sick._

I feel so _exposed_ right now...

_I.... can’t.... do.... this...._

“James.”

I can hardly hear what anyone is saying right now... but I know the therapist is saying something to me...

“I hope you feel proud of yourself for opening up to the group.”

I feel like I’m in some kind of disconnected bubble... far... far... away....

“This was huge for you.”

Despite everything feeling so foggy right now, I can still make out DJ’s face...

I’ve never felt a bigger pit in my stomach than I have in this moment.

~ ~ ~

**_One hour later:_ **

Well... That group was a bit of a disaster.

It was entertaining until the therapist made me peel layers off... I don’t know how I got through that... I don’t know how I snapped myself back... I don’t know anything. All I know is that the shame that I feel is overbearing... and I feel it festering.

I feel so uneasy, and want to hide, but that’s not what I’m doing right now. This is the worst time to feel this way because now I have to get through a _fuckin’_ snack.

DJ and Nikki are hangin’ out in my room because they’re not allowed in the dining room... But, you have _no_ idea how much I wish they were here right now.

I’m sitting here frozen, because....

Eliza gave me a surprise switch... I knew she was changing things up, but why the _fuck_ did it have to be today?! Right _now?!_

I don’t know what I had originally chosen for this snack, but it was definitely not a fuckin’ ice cream bar. I can’t stop staring at it... I’ve been avoiding desserts during meals and snacks and I know that’s exactly why she chose this for me, but... _but—_

This is the absolute worst day for her to do this to me! I can’t even think of a time that would have been more horrible than right now... The last goddamn thing I want to do right now... after sitting through that group... is _eat_.

I’m not refusing it... I can’t refuse it with Nikki and DJ waiting in my room for me. I can’t! And I know I can’t because I want to get better but right now I _don’t!_ Right now I’m feeling absolutely _petrified_ and I can’t even get myself to start unwrapping the damn thing...

The longer I stare at it, the more anxious I’m becoming, and the faster my heart is racing, and the more nauseous I’m feeling...

I’m shaking in my seat... I feel it. My hands are fuckin’ trembling and I just want to get this over with but I _can’t—_

“James?”

I don’t even know when I started crying, but I did, and I feel so exposed right now, and I still can’t move, and I need everything to just _STOP—_

“Is there anything that you need right now?”

I need a lot... I need a lot but I can’t tell anyone... and I have trouble asking for help.

But, at the same time, I’m begging internally for someone... _anyone_... to just help me get through this.

~ ~ ~

**DJ’s P.O.V:**

That group was really hard to get through... I had a feeling it would be.

I’ll admit that I drank a little bit before I came here... Not a lot at all... just enough to take the edge off.

That’s actually what I’ve been doing the past few days... If I feel my anxiety bubbling up, or I know I might be hit in the face with some paralyzing memory, I’ll have a drink or two... Some days it’s worse than others, but it all depends on if my brain wants to fuck me with or not... Some days it’s not so bad, but then others... _Fuck._

It becomes a whole different story...

Sometimes my day will start off by waking up from a nightmare, and that sets the tone for that day... On days like that it could be 6 in the morning and I would have already drank something...

The point is, the little bit of alcohol that I had before I came here helped... It helped at first but now that we had that group and I heard what Nikki said... I don’t feel well at all.

I feel really uneasy and I’ve been having flashes of disturbing memories play in my head every few minutes... I’m trying really hard to keep it together since I’m here visiting, but I really don’t know if I’m gonna be able to for much longer...

“I... I hope he’s alright in there.”

I haven’t taken my eyes off of the floor since James had to leave to go to a snack... For some reason, I’m uncomfortable looking up at Nikki. It feels safer to not look up.

“That was a hard fuckin’ group for him... I hope he’s okay...”

“DJ...”. Nikki has his hand on my shoulder, but I’m still just staring at the ground right now because I’m not sure if I can keep it together if I make eye contact with anything. “He’s got the support of everyone here with him.” I can hear him sigh. “Honestly... yeah. He’s probably having a hard time.... It’s so expected.”

“I feel like an idiot for saying the word _cake_ in that group—“

Now I’m just blurting out everything that’s on my mind, and I feel embarrassed.

Nikki is shaking his head and gives me a playful nudge.

“Don’t worry about that... I’m pretty sure everyone forgot about that by now.” I can see him beginning to smirk. “You _were_ making a bit of a scene in there about it though...”

I can’t help but laugh a little as he says that...

“Yeah...”. I let out a cackle. “I realize that.”

It’s not long before I see James walking towards the door of his room... I immediately pop my head up at him, as he makes his way in and onto his bed.

“Hey.”

I give him a smile, even though I feel a big pit in my stomach.

“How’d it go?”

“Oh.” James doesn’t hesitate to answer. “It was good.” He’s smiling, but I know there’s no fuckin’ way in _hell_ that he feels totally okay right now.

“Yeah?”

I can feel my heart beating out of my chest, and I’m trying to calm the nausea that I feel creepin’ up to my throat.

“Yeah.” I can hear him let out a light, casual laugh, as he gets himself comfortable on his bed. “Never a dull moment in there, lemme’ tell ya...”

I’m not sure if he said anything else. I’m not sure if anyone said anything, because now things are blurring. Now my anxiety is bubbling all the way up, and I don’t even know _why—_

_“Dude! You’re dressed for the fuckin’ winter. Aren’t you hot?!”_

_All I get is a stare from James. I wonder if he’s rolling his eyes at me from under his sunglasses._

_Then, the reality of an unfortunate possibility hits me._

_“Oh... no...”. I shake my head, and feel his forehead, before he snatches my hand away. “Don’t tell me you’re—-“_

_James must have known what I was about to say, because he immediately cuts me off, as he playfully nudges me._

_“No, I’m not sick, DJ...”. He shakes his head and laughs lightly. “I took a really cold shower, and I never shower in cold water...”. He cringes. “I don’t think my body knew how to respond!”_

The lies... All the times James said he was _fine_ and that everything was _good_ were lies... He’s probably lying right now too... He’s _not_ fine—

_“James, come on!” I shake my head. “It’s fuckin’ hot in here. Take the damn jacket off—-“_

_I’m just about to playfully snatch it off, but he immediately nudges my hand away._

_“DJ, I’ll be fine!” He laughs, but even I can tell it sounds a bit forced. “Please...”_

My heart is racing even faster than it was before and I feel like I’m seeing tunnel vision and I can’t fuckin’ stay here right now—

_“You still keepin’ the sunglasses on?” I raise an eyebrow. “It’s really not that bright out today.”_

_He takes a breath and slowly sighs. “I know... It’s not that.” He shakes his head, as he rubs the back of it. “I’ve had a really bad migraine the whole day, and any light just enhances the pain, so this is the best I can do right now.”_

_“Migraine?” I bite my lip. “Are you sure you’re feelin’ okay?”_

_James automatically brushes the concern off and laughs. “I’m fine, I’m fine! It’s not a big deal...”_

“DJ?”

I suddenly snap my head up and see James’s concerned face, and I’m feeling such a strong sense of urgency. I need to get the fuck outta here. I can’t do this! I can’t do _this!_

“I’ll be right back... I’m about to piss myself!”

_God, that didn’t sound forced at all!_

I’m not even sure where the bathroom is, and I don’t even know where the hell I’m going... All I know is that _thank god_ I have liquor on me... The mini bottles fit in my jacket pockets, and I only brought them incase something like this happened...

I didn’t think I was gonna have to use them... but I do... because right now things are bad...

Things are _very_ bad... and I am _not_ okay.

~ ~ ~

**NIKKI’s P.O.V:**

Once I see DJ leave the room, I can’t help but feel uneasy. He’s seriously concerning the shit outta me, and so is James, who looks like he’s about to curl into himself on his bed. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that he’s trying to put a façade on to hide his anxiety. He just came back from having to eat... There’s no way that he feels completely fine right now... _especially_ after the group that was right before this.

I take a deep breath, and talk in a gentle tone.

“How are you _actually_ feelin’ right now?”

“I... I mean...”. He cracks a small smile, shrugs his shoulders and lets out a light, nervous sounding laugh. “I’m fine, Nik, really.”

It’s James’s nature to not acknowledge his feelings, and I know that’s what he’s doing right now. It’s what’s comfortable for him, but I can almost guarantee that his body is holding onto a lot more emotion than he’s showing. I can almost feel it just by looking at him.

“I know you don’t like to show your emotions, but you don’t have to be ashamed to admit that you’re having a hard time...”. I shake my head. “You just ate a snack.... You have to come face to face with something that has haunted you six times a day... _And_ you sat through that really tough group... You’re tellin’ me everything’s good?”

I’m not trying to come off pushy. I’m just trying to reach James, because I know how horrible recovery feels at the beginning. It feels excruciating at first... when you’re forcing yourself to do the opposite of everything that your brain has told you to for such a long time.

There’s a long period of silence, and I know that I must have hit a certain nerve... Sometimes people forget that body language speaks louder than words sometimes, and in this case I can read James just by the way he’s positioned on his bed. I’m looking at him and the first thing that comes to my mind is a timid, hesitant animal; a scared cat. I’m almost envisioning an animal that’s wandering alone, looking for its mother... I can imagine that’s probably how James feels right now. He probably feels alone in his struggling, and by him not reaching out to people or opening up about his feelings, that will only get worse.

“You’re allowed to show that you’re struggling.” I smile, and move my chair closer to his bed. “You don’t have pretend that everything’s fine...”

I want him to know that I’m here for him, and I know that he already knows that, but it’s tough to see him having a rough time, but still refusing to let people in. Unfortunately, I understand where that comes from... I empathize so much.

After a few more moments of silence, and watching James stare blankly at the wall, I begin to make out a sniffly noise. I immediately look up and see that James is biting his lip lightly, as I notice a single tear drip down his face, that leaves me with a chill shooting up my spine.

I know how vulnerable he must feel right now, so I don’t say anything. I don’t want to push him, and make him more uncomfortable than he already is, since what he’s feeling is horrible enough. Instead, I lean in close to him, and begin to rub soothing circles onto his back. I want him to know that I’m here to listen, and that he’s safe with me... I won’t ever judge. I’ve been through shit like this... He knows that he can tell me anything.

“It’s... It’s hard.” James’s voice is shaking, and laced with so much internal pain.

“It’s so _fuckin’_ hard...”

I nod my head and close my eyes, because I know. I know how fuckin’ horrible it feels. _God_ , I wish I didn’t know but I do...

“I know, James...”. I breathe in. “It’s so, _so_ hard.”

“I mean...”. James squeezes his eyes shut, but re-opens them, as his breaths become slightly hitched. “Just sitting here right now...”. His eyes are wide. “With, ya know...”. I can see his gaze move down to his stomach, as his body tenses up. “It’s so uncomfortable... I... I just wanna crawl out of my fuckin’ skin.” He’s shaking his head with urgency, and I can hear the panic in his voice. “Everything’s just stuck inside of me right now... and...”.

“It’s gonna pass... These moments suck, but they’ll pass...”. I’m speaking in a soft tone, as a way to hopefully bring a soothing energy to help ease James’s anxiety.

I can feel James’s body shaking, as he speaks. The words are coming out of his mouth so quickly, and I know his mind must be racing right now.

“You have no idea how much I wish I could just... _God_... you know—-“

I squeeze his hand tighter, and start speaking before he can finish.

“James...”. I’m looking at him right in the eyes, and my voice is gentle, but it’s laced with intense concern. “I _do_ know. Trust me... That voice is screaming at you right now... Its so loud, because it’s just trying to get you to give in.”

All I’m getting is a wide eyed panic stricken stare from James. I wish I could make all of the pain go away for him, but I can’t, and I’ll admit that sometimes I really hate that I can’t fix things like this. I hate that I can’t erase James’s suffering, so I do what I know I can... Use my experience to try to provide support, validation, and understanding.

“You know what it does though... It _lies_. It’s telling you the lies that you’ve believed, but they’re fuckin’ _lies_ , James.” I’m shaking my head, and my heart is breaking because of how close this all hits home for me. “I know you think it’ll feel better to give in, but I’m here to remind you of the truth, alright?” I’m squeezing both of his hands now. “You will _not_ feel better. You will _not_ feel better at all. You gotta remember all of the pain that this disease has caused... You have to remember the torment and hell that you put yourself through because you listened to that goddamn voice.”

It’s painful to say this stuff, but a lot of times the truth isn’t nice to hear. I know that sugar coating things doesn’t do shit, and when you’re in a panicky state, it’s hard to think rationally. That’s what I’m trying to do right now. James can’t access his rational self in this moment, so I’m doing it for him.

“It’s a devious bastard... It doesn’t care about your wellbeing. It doesn’t care about _you_... You’ve been close to death multiple times and that voice didn’t give a _fuckin’_ shit. All it cares about is that you give into what it tells you, no matter what the consequences are.”

I can hear James’s breaths quicken, and I know that he’s still crying. I’m proud of him for letting it out, even though I know how scary it must feel right now. Before I know it, I have him wrapped in a tight embrace, and I’m letting him cry on me. I want to provide comfort. He needs it, even though he has such a hard time accepting it...

“You gotta fight those urges. You gotta fight them, and you gotta channel your healthy voice and use that to fight back. You’re worth so much more than this shit, James, and one day that fuckin’ voice isn’t gonna scream at you like this any-more. You’ll hardly hear it. You’ll hardly hear it because _your_ voice is gonna be overpowering the shit outta it!”

As I’m doing my best to console James, I spot the healing stone that I gave him on his dresser. While still securing him in a grounding hug, I reach one arm out to grab it, and put it in his hand.

“James...”. I’m speaking softly. “I want you to squeeze this and listen to me... Let it suck all of that negative, dark energy out of you...”

I can feel James’s body relax a bit as I speak, and now I’m rubbing soothing circles onto his back.

“That voice is so fuckin’ pissed at you right now. It is so angry at you because you’re going against what it’s telling you. You’re rebelling against everything that its told you to do, and that’s fuckin’ _awesome_ , James...”

I slowly loosen my grip on him, and gently lift his tear-streaked face up to face me.

“You gotta tell that voice to fuck off... because it has _no_ idea who the hell its messin’ with.”

~ ~ ~

**DJ’s P.O.V:**

I don’t know how long I’ve been in here... I don’t know if I can even get myself out.

For some reason, it feels safer for me to be alone. I’ve been curled up in this bathroom stall for god knows how long... I’m soaked from my tears, and I’m mentally drained... and _numb_... kind of.

I don’t know what I’m feeling. I don’t know what to do either... I just want my mind to stop.

I don’t know what’s going on with me and why this is happening. I feel like I’m nuts. I think there’s something wrong with my brain.

I wish I was just fuckin’ _normal..._


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What do you see, then?” Rachel leans her head in closer to me, and the genuine look of concern painted on her face is making me want to hide. “If you don’t see your old self, who do you see?”
> 
> I let out a light laugh, seeping with sarcasm, as I spit out the first sentence that comes to my head.
> 
> “A fucked up, delusional, worthless piece of crap who screwed his own life up.” I bite my lip, and look down. “And... you know... everyone else’s lives...”
> 
> The concern on Rachel’s face is even more prominent now that I said that. Why the hell is she even surprised though? It’s not like I’m making shit up!
> 
> “That sounds a little harsh”
> 
> “Well...yeah.” I nod and laugh bitterly, before spitting the rest out. “But it’s the truth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE!!!! It's a VERY early update!! (I got pretty inspired this week and ended up writing a ton and a whole new chapter came out of that ... I actually had a lot more that I wanted to put in this chapter but I have to save it for the next because this would have ended up being WAY too long... OOPS!)-- it's still really long though lol
> 
> WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:
> 
> ***eating disorders, feelings of shame/guilt, depression, anxiety/dissociation/flashbacks, PTSD symptoms, alcohol***
> 
> Your support means more to me than you know! I LOVE reading your comments and hearing your thoughts!!! it gets me even more excited to continue writing!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!

**JAMES’S P.O.V:**

_**Day Twenty-Eight** _

I’ve been here for a full month now... It’s weird how time feels like it’s flying, but it’s also dragging at the same time... The days go by slow but the weeks add up and end up going by fast...

Honestly, I feel like the days are just blurring together. Every day is the same... It’s full of the same shit, at the same times, with the same people...

_**5:30am** \- Wake up, vitals, get weighed_   
_**6:30am** \- Go back to sleep (or attempt to)_   
_**8:00am** \- Have breakfast_   
_**9:00am** \- Force meds and vitamins down my throat_   
_**10:00am** \- Drag myself to group_   
_**11:00am** \- Sit through a snack_   
_**11:30am** \- Another group_   
_**1:00pm** \- Have lunch (and try to not have a breakdown when i see a menu switch from Eliza)_   
_**1:45pm** \- Run to my room to hide (and cry)_   
_**2:15pm** \- Force myself out to go to another group_   
_**4:00pm** \- Attempt to sit through another snack without having a breakdown_   
_**4:30pm - 6:00pm** \- Free time (aka: isolate myself and do absolutely nothing but ruminate and obsess... very healthy, I know!)_   
_**6:00pm** \- DINNER_   
_**6:45pm** \- Sit though a quick check in group to process the meal (always a fun time!)_   
_**7:00pm** **\- 8:30pm** \- ISOLATION NATION (or visiting hours... and phone/media time... but even then... I usually don’t take advantage of it)_   
_**8:30pm** \- Force myself to take a shower and hope to god that I don’t have a body dysmorphia induced panic attack when I’m in there_   
_**9:00pm** \- Last snack of the day_   
_**9:30pm** \- More meds_   
_**11:00pm** \- Bed time... (or for me... night time torture by my brain)_

And of course in-between all of that, there’s the constant dread and anticipation of individual therapy sessions, dietitian meetings, and talking to Dr. O.

Everything is the same every damn day, and things aren’t getting easier, despite what I’m being told.

_“It’ll get easier, James. I promise you... The more you do it, the easier it will get.”_

Sure, maybe physically I’m doing better... My vitals are way more stable than when I got here, I’m off of _fall risk_ , and my weight is improving... All the things that are supposed to be happening are happening but because of that, other things are getting worse. Mentally I’m feeling _worse._

I’ve been here a month and things aren’t getting any easier. They’re getting _harder_ , and I’m sick of them getting harder because it all felt hard enough when I got here!

Now I’m telling myself that the first week here was _nothing!_

Even though Rachel is making me acknowledge my accomplishments, it doesn’t make any of it easier! Yeah, I’ve opened to her more, and I’ve participated more in groups, and I’ve been completing all of my meals and snacks but that’s the thing...

Those are _hard_ things to do.

None of this is fuckin’ easy, and I didn’t think it was gonna be, but my god... I hate this part of recovery... I’ve always hated this part.

The only reason I remotely knew how this experience was gonna be was because of my history with drinking. I was using alcohol to try to self-medicate my Bipolar Disorder, and it obviously was a maladaptive way of coping, so that’s when I decided that it would be in my best interest if I stopped...

It was _not_ easy.

It felt fuckin’ horrible because taking that away meant I was gonna have to sit with all the emotions that I was trying to escape and run from. I couldn’t numb them out anymore. I couldn’t avoid them... I had to just sit with them, and figure out new ways to deal with them...

But you know what? I don’t think I ever learned new ways to deal with them, because look at me now!

I’ve been told so many times that it’s extremely common for people to swap one addiction for another, and now I’m realizing how much this all makes sense... I haven’t really thought about it before until now because my mind was too hijacked... But now, after being here for a month and doing _some_ therapy... And sitting through groups... and hearing other people share... It makes sense.

We had a group the other day on the functions of eating disorders... The worksheet that we all got had a list of the most common _gains_ that an eating disorder can give someone. Of course it differs for everyone, but this is what the sheet said:

**Eating disorders may serve the following functions for patients:**

_1. **Security** (something in their lives that is constant and/or stable)_   
_2. **Avoidance** (emotional numbing, isolating, “self-medicating”)_   
_3. **Mental strength and sense of competence** (finally feeling “good at something”)_   
_4. **Self-confidence** (often patients will receive praise for their appearance)_   
_5. **Identity** (feeling of invincibility and a sense of “purpose”)_   
_6. **Elicit care and/or concern** (attention from others **without** having to ask)_   
_7. **Communication** (a tacit means of communicating difficulties, stress, feelings of unhappiness)_

It all make so much sense... My coping mechanism is being taken from me and I’m not handling it well... I hate that recovery takes hard work and I hate that I can’t just snap my fingers and make this all go away...

~ ~ ~

**DJ’S P.O.V:**

I stay at James’s house every night now... I can’t remember the last time I didn’t. Whenever I do, I sleep downstairs in the studio, because I feel safer there... I feel comforted in a weird way because I know that if James was here, that’s where he would spend most of his time.

The thing is that the night is the farthest from feeling _safe_ for me... It’s because of the fuckin’ nightmares.

During the day is when the memories pop up, but at night... almost every goddamn night, those nightmares haunt the crap out of me... and they’ve only gotten worse since all of this started, and I don’t know why!

I’ll drink before bed just to relax me, and to help me fall asleep, because it’s hard for me to even get to sleep since I have the horrible anticipation of a nightmare eating away at me. It helps, but a few hours in, I’ll end up waking up... Sometimes I’m silent. Sometimes I’ll cry. Sometimes I’ll scream. Sometimes I’ll punch or kick something... There’s just too many festering emotions bubbling up inside...

That’s when I’ll drink again, but this time it’s in an attempt to stop the pain... To bring everything down... To shut off the images that flash through my brain, and to try to escape the horrible memories that won’t leave me the _hell_ alone!

That’s how all of my days have been starting lately... and it _sucks._

I think one of the worst things about this is that I never fuckin’ know when the memories are gonna pop up. I could be feeling okay, and then out of the fuckin’ blue, my brain starts tormenting me and I’m sucked into some other world... It’s horrible.

Sometimes there’s a trigger... Sometimes there isn’t. The other night, I was looking through James’s binder with all of the Sixx:AM lyrics in it downstairs in the studio, and once I got up to _‘Rise of the Melancholy Empire’_ I started breaking down...

Whenever I see a picture of the three of us from the tour, I feel sick... James looks like he’s about to drop dead, but he covered it up with the smile that he pasted on his face... It’s horrible that I can’t remember the tour as a positive time. Thinking about it sends me into an emotional whirlwind border-lining a fuckin’ panic attack.

I try to mentally prepare myself every day for this shit, but you can’t prepare... It’s hard to when everything feels so unpredictable... Even though it’s almost predictable at the same fuckin’ time!

It’s bad enough when the flashbacks hit me when I’m alone, but it’s even worse if I’m around other people, because I have to try so hard to pretend nothing is happening. When I’m alone I don’t need to act like anything... I can just let everything run its course, but I am always petrified that I’ll end up breaking down in front of Nikki... or even worse, in front of James.

I always make sure I have some kind of alcohol on me... That’s why I brought it when I went to visit James with Nikki the other day... because I was terrified that I would go into one of these panicky states while I was there... and I almost did.

I _was._

At the same time, I can’t help but feel guilty... Actually, I’m feeling like a fuckin’ _hypocrite._

James is in treatment getting help, and I’m here drinking whenever a memory pops up, and I know that Nikki would be saying that what I’m doing isn’t a _healthy_ way to cope with things... but...

How else can I?!

I get desperate. When I feel scared, I feel desperate, and I want to run away... Right now this is helping me...

It’s helping, but I’ll admit that I hate the tension I feel when I’m out in public, because of that underlying fear that I’ll crack. I’m scared that my mask will fall off, even with the alcohol, and I’m gonna make a fool outta myself...

It’s so hard... This is so hard to hide. It’s so fuckin’ hard to pretend everything’s okay... It takes a ton of work to act like nothing is going on outside when I’m feeling the exact opposite on the inside.

It _shouldn’t_ be like this!

I wish it wasn’t like this, but this is my reality now...

~ ~ ~

**JAMES’S P.O.V:**

_**Three days later** _

I already have a feeling that today is gonna be a shit show... Debbie is working, and honestly, whenever she is here, it's only inevitable for everything to go to hell. It's like a self-fulfilling prophecy

Let me tell you a little bit about Debbie. She's this really annoying tech, and I am super convinced that she is one of Satan's relatives. For some fuckin' reason, she seems to have a big problem with almost everything I do, even when I'm literally not doing anything. In fact, I'm starting to believe that it's just my presence that fucks her up.

We had a group the other day, and Debbie was sitting in it. It was a nice, relaxing group, full of collaging and creative expression. Everything seemed fine and dandy, until one of the patients started to crack her knuckles. I kid you not... Debbie fuckin' flipped shit. It's like she was watching someone get killed or something. You should have seen the look on her face. It's as if she witnessed something so grotesque that she couldn't even bear to face that it was happening. Everyone was so confused. We all just sat there in silence, trying to hold in our laughs because I think we all agreed that this situation was so fuckin' ridiculous. I'm tellin' ya, there's just some shit that you can't make up...

Then, the other day when DJ and Nikki came to visit, Debbie just so happened to be working... of course. Just my fuckin' luck. The second that she laid eyes on DJ, she commented on how "inappropriate" his tattoos were. I was so fuckin' embarrassed; not because of DJ, but because of how ridiculous Debbie acted towards him. I mean, my god, who the hell does that?! I just smiled at her to show that I really don't give two shits about her opinions, and proceeded to hang out with DJ and Nikki in my room. I gotta admit that I felt slightly tense, only because I could imagine that Debbie was probably spying on the three of us... It's like she thinks we're up to something... Well, at least, she thinks _I'm_ up to something.

She always thinks I'm fuckin' up to something, and I literally don't understand. I think she just has something against other people's happiness. Whenever things seem to be going _slightly_ decent for me, she has to do something that pisses me off. During meals, she'll stare me down specifically, and watch me "take too long to eat the two halves of my veggie burger.” That’s literally what she said, and I know. It makes _no_ fuckin’ sense. She almost marked me incomplete for having to shove a huge piece of it down my throat at the last minute because I almost ran out of time... Like... Okay... that makes _so_ much sense. I fuckin’ finished the thing but she felt the need to give me some sort of shit. It’s fine. It’s _good_.

Everything’s _great_....

~ ~ ~

**DJ’S P.O.V:**

_**11:30am**_

_“You know what he’s doing right now? It’s 3:30 in the goddamn morning... and... “ I feel my lip quivering and I squeeze my eyes shut again. “He’s doing fuckin’... burpees!”_

_I have to spit that last word out because the pain of the reality is hitting me the more I say it and the more I acknowledge how fucked up this whole thing is. I let my tears run freely as I keep going._

_“He’s fucking exercising as we speak... I could swear—-“_

_Nikki stops me._

_“It’s James. You know he doesn’t sleep and he does crazy things sometimes—-“_

_I immediately cut him off, my arms flailing in the air, because I feel desperate._

_“NO, this isn’t the same thing!_

I feel like hell. I can’t stop barfing, and I can’t stop fuckin’ crying! I can’t stop crying because I’m _not_ okay! I’m not fuckin’ okay at all!

I don’t even know what the fuck triggered it this time... All I did was wake up. I woke up and felt hungover and the memories started right away...

Everything hurts right now. My whole body hurts, my throat hurts, my head hurts, and my stomach hurts.

_“It’s not just that....”. I gulp, “I found... “ I close my eyes and want to scream, but instead just choke the rest out in one breath. “... I found a shit ton of diet pills and laxatives and a bunch of fuckin’ crap like that in his bag when I was looking for toothpaste and I thought I was goin’ fuckin’ nuts because what the hell is all of that shit for?!?!?!?!”_

_Now there was no point in trying to hold my tears back or control them, because I’m having a complete breakdown right now. I don’t know if I want to laugh, cry, or scream more._

_“Maybe I’m just overreacting... or... I don’t fuckin’ know! I don’t know!”_

_“Hold up.... Take a breath, DJ.” Nikki’s voice is unbelievably soothing, and you wouldn’t expect that from someone like him. He would be a good meditation guide. “You said you found... laxatives in his bag?”_

_I nod my head and look at him with wide eyes._

_“Do you remember what kind?”_

But what hurts even more is the way I’m fuckin’ haunted! My mind won’t stop and I can’t handle this anxiety! I can’t handle the terrifying memories and I can’t handle the pain and fear and terror and—

_Everything!_

I want it to stop!

_“There was this.... açaí berry cleanse thing... and... green tea fat burner...”. My head is spinning trying to make sense of everything. “This lemon flavored magnesium citrate... I think there were even caffeine capsules or something... I... I don’t remember what else...”_

_I need everything to fuckin’ stop!_

_Nikki gives me an intense stare and squeezes my wrists. His voice is low and steady._

_“You know those can be dangerous, right?”_

I’m curled up into such a tight ball on the cold, titled floor right now... I’m still hysterical, and I still feel sick despite barfing god knows how much... My throat is burning and I’m gripping my phone in my hand because I _need_ to call him.

_“Those pills can fuck up your heart really bad. Too much caffeine at once can speed up your heart rate and cause palpitations.... even irregular heartbeats.... Cleanses and laxatives can dehydrate you, and that can be super dangerous in itself.... “_

I _need_ to call James! I _need_ to—-

_“How much damage did he do to his body already? How long has he been taking the stuff?! The fuckin’ pills and shit?!”_

_Nikki puts a hand on my shoulder and sighs._

_“I... I don’t know. He could have been buying them since the start of the tour, or maybe it was a recent thing... He could have been hiding them real well the whole time and we didn’t know....”_

Somehow in the state that I’m in, I can still dial the hospital number, and no one is gonna be able to even understand me if I’m this hysterical but I don’t fuckin’ care! I don’t fuckin’ care about any of that! I just can’t handle this right now!

I CAN’T HANDLE THIS!

“Eating disorder unit. Please give your name and patient you would like to speak with.”

I immediately open my mouth to answer, even though I know my voice is gonna be quivering... I need to talk to him! I _need_ to talk to him.

_Nikki’s voice is becoming a blur and I’m not sure if I even heard everything he said because, suddenly, I remember why I came to talk to him in the first place and I could feel my face going white._

_I could feel myself disconnecting from reality. My sight is blurring and so is my hearing, but my heart is beating right out of my chest._

_I feel fuckin’ sick._

_“DJ...?”_

_Nikki’s voice sounds so far away._

_“Hey... DJ... Are you with me?”_

“Hi....”. My eyes are bugging out of my sockets, and I feel like I’m about to barf again. “Uh, this is DJ Ashba, and if I can talk to... Uh... Is James around to talk?”

“James is in a group right now... Do you want to leave him a message?”

_The only thing that ends up snapping me out of the daze is a disturbing vision of James exercising down the hall..._

_... and then... something bad happening._

_I gulp loudly and stare wide eyed at Nikki._

_“He’s.... he’s probably still exercising out there... and... oh god...”_

“DJ?”

I can hear the voice on the other end but everything is just getting blurred together and now I can’t move. I can’t speak. I can’t think! I can’t do anything!

_“Somethings gonna happen to him. He’s taking this shit AND he’s overworking his body... and he’s performing every goddamn night like this.... FUCK!”_

“Sir?”

I don’t know how the fuck I went from sitting to lying down, but now I’m just in the fuckin’ fetal position, and everything feels hot but I’m freezing cold at the same time!

_I have such a strong urge to punch something right now, so I punch Nikki’s mattress._

_“What the.... fuck is he doing.....”_

_My whole body is clenching. I’m so upset that I’m angry. And I’m so angry that I’m close to tears again._

I don’t know how much time has passed. I don’t know how to get out of here! I don’t know if I even want to get out of here! I don’t know if I should move. I don’t know anything! I can’t do anything! I can’t fuckin’ do ANYTHING—-

_“WHY THE FUCK IS HE DOING THIS SHIT?!”_

_I’m about to throw another punch, but Nikki grabs a hold of my arm before I can. He secures me in a tight, grounding embrace, and it makes me feel safe. I’m done fighting and I let myself lean my head on his shoulder. The second I do, I surrender and let the tears flow...._

And you know what the worst fuckin’ part of this is?! Do you?!

The worst part of this is that even though I feel so physically horrible right now, that doesn’t even compare to the mental torment I’m experiencing.

I would rather get sick like this from alcohol every fuckin’ day if it would take away the pain in my head...

~ ~ ~

**JAMES’S P.O.V:**

_**2:15pm** _

The second that I walk into the group room, I see Debbie sitting in the corner.

_Jesus Christ..._

It’s bad enough that she’s working today, but why does she have to be in _this_ group?

_Why?!_

Despite my intense reluctance, I still force myself onto a chair, and see the therapist walk in with a smile on her face.

“Alright!” She has a pile of papers in her hand. “Are you guys ready for _Special Topics?”_

 _Special Topics_ is a group that doesn’t have a set topic. It’s a different topic each week and we never know ahead of time what it’ll be, so I actually find it to be pretty cool... I mean, if the topic isn’t too uncomfortable, ya know...

It doesn’t take long before a worksheet is placed right in front of me. I can see Debbie peering from behind me... Just knowing that she’s gonna be sitting through this whole group is making me tense up. It doesn’t help that she happens to be right behind me either.

Even though she hasn’t said anything to me yet, I still want to fuckin’ scream... Just being in her presence makes me feel so uneasy, especially because I’m mentally preparing for her to find something to get on my case about—

“Today’s group is going to be focused on _Identity_.” The therapist excitedly looks around the room. “Why do you think identity is an important topic for us to talk about?”

I can’t even take a second to think of an answer before I see Nicole raise her hand. Part of me has an urge to giggle because she’s the person who sent Debbie into a fuckin’ whirlwind after she started cracking her knuckles in group that time...

“Well... I know for me a lot of times I feel like I’m one with my eating disorder...”. She furrows her brows and shrugs her shoulders. “That’s a thing right? Forgetting who you actually are without your diagnosis?”

At the same time... I can already see Debbie beginning to glare at her... Actually, she’s definitely glaring at both of us.

_God dammit._

Nicole’s answer receives an enthusiastic reaction from the therapist.

“Exactly.” She nods quickly and continues.

“With eating disorders and other mental illnesses, it can be very difficult to separate yourself from the diagnosis itself. A lot of times, you feel like you have become one with your diagnosis and that is all that is left to define you....”

As she’s speaking, I begin to feel an uneasy chill run up my spine, because _fuck_... this topic already resonates with me and this group literally _just_ started.

I let my eyes wander to the worksheet in front of me, as the therapist begins reading from it.

_**Who Am I Without My Eating Disorder?** _

_Rediscovering Your True Self_

Just by reading the top of the worksheet, I am kinda getting the gist of what the assignment is...

_“When a diagnosis becomes our identity and our identity a diagnosis, we unknowingly become walking, talking containers of illness, pain, and even hopelessness...”_

It’s getting a little harder to concentrate on what she’s saying because I swear, Debbie’s eyes are burning a hole into me right now, and once again.... _What_ have I done to that woman?!

_“We separate ourselves from others in the belief we are different or broken. As we embody the disease we believe precedes us, we disconnect from our unique gifts and passions. Our bodies hurt, our minds become one-dimensional, and our spirits wither. Our world narrows to a single dark point chained to the fear of not knowing who we are without our diagnosis identity.”_

As she’s reading, I can’t help but think how much this sounds like something Nikki would be saying... I’m also just feeling _slightly_ uncomfortable because of how much I’m relating to this...

_“Who are you without your diagnosis?”_

The therapist looks up from the worksheet with a curious expression pasted on her face.

“Do any of you think you can answer that question? Who you are _without_ your eating disorders?”

I can feel my stomach drop for a split second and my body is getting a tiny bit tense. My mind feels blank...

Apparently I’m not alone in this, because no one seems to have anything to say... I’m just seeing confused expressions on everyone’s faces so at least I don’t feel _as_ weird right now...

“It’s okay if you don’t...”. She smiles, as she looks back down at the paper. “That’s why we’re having this group!”

I can hear her take a breath as she resumes reading.

_“You may try to remember life before your eating disorder, when food, weight, or exercise weren’t your primary interests. What DID you think about then? The answer may be a wide-eyed “I have no idea” with some disordered thoughts trailing behind it. What if the “you” without an eating disorder is worse than the one with a disorder, as the illness may have you believe? Or what if the answer to “who am I” is simply. . . nothing?”_

I feel an uncomfortable wave of uncertainty wash over me, as I look down at the assignment on the worksheet.

_It is common for people with eating disorders to attach their identity to their illness. They may treat their diagnosis as a definition of self rather than a description of their symptoms. An eating disorder may have become the filter through which they see themselves and the world, and they may struggle to make sense of themselves separate from it._

There are two columns. One is labelled _eating disorder self_ and the other is labelled _healthy self._

I get it... The therapist wants us to identify traits of each part. Basically, under the eating disorder column I need to write how I act when I’m sucked into the addiction, and then I need to compare to my _healthy_ self...

I need to be honest. I don’t really remember how I was before this even started...

However, my head is already spitting out things for me to write under the eating disorder category. I could probably write a fuckin’ novel under that one...

Without hesitation, I start jotting down the first few words that come to mind, as I feel my heart beating out of my chest.

_**Eating disorder self:** isolative, depressed, resistant, stubborn, angry, obsessive, trapped, rigid, scared, pained, miserable, careless/reckless_

As I’m writing, I’m beginning to feel a lot of shame, because memories of this past year are popping up one by one...

The pit in my stomach is just growing bigger, and I can feel my body getting a little hot... I’m trying to ignore all of that so I can finish writing this, but it’s hard. I close my eyes for a second and continue.

_....impulsive, secretive, manipulative, destructive, constricted, abusive towards myself, self-punishment, self-hatred, desperate, helpless, powerless, unsafe_

The more I write, the worse I’m feeling. My handwriting is looking choppy now and I don’t even know if what I’m saying is making sense. My mind is racing, and the shame I’m feeling is so heavy.

_...close-minded, dreadful, lonely, self-deprecating, exhausted, avoidant, apathetic, hollow_

I keep thinking about DJ... and how if I wasn’t such a fucked up person, none of the crap that went on this year would have happened, and he wouldn’t be a freakin’ wreck right now!

_...delusional, erratic, emotionally unstable, unpredictable, maniac_

DJ wouldn’t be showing up here an anxious mess! He wouldn’t be calling me multiple times a day because he’s terrified that something is gonna happen to me... He wouldn’t be trying to pretend he’s fine when he’s not! This wouldn’t be happening! He would be _okay—-_

I feel tears of shame welling in my eyes now, but of course I’m trying my hardest to not show that. I’m feeling vulnerable, but I can’t stop writing now! I can’t stop because my mind is shooting the words out so fast and I just need to get them out!

_...fucked up, worthless piece of fuckin’ shit who doesn’t deserve ANYTHING—-_

Before I know it, the thoughts in my head are being transferred right into the paper, and I know I probably look like a mental case right now but I don’t give a shit! I’m not even doing the assignment the right way but I’m writing! Give me that! I’m fuckin’ writing!

_You’re a piece of crap who just hurts everyone around you because you don’t know how to get your fuckin’ life together! This is all your fuckin’ fault James! You piece of fuckin’ shit! Why do people care about you?! Why do they love you?! You’re worthless and deserve to rot away and fuckin’ DIE—-_

“James?”

I’m suddenly snapped out of the tornado in my head by the therapist’s voice. I lift my head up immediately, and see her pointing to the door with a gentle smile on her face.

“Rachel is waiting outside for you.”

I still feel my heart beating out of my chest, as the dread begins to wash over me.

_Oh..._

I take a deep breath, gather my notebook with my shaking hands, and stand up.

_Great._

I smile, even though I’m feeling slightly vulnerable right now after writing what I did, and slowly make my way out of the room.

~ ~ ~

“What did you think of that group?”

“Hmm?”

“The group I just pulled you out of...” Rachel is giving me a smile, as she settles herself in a chair near my bed. “You were in there for most of it, and you seemed pretty engaged.” She raises her eyebrows. “What did you think?”

“Uhh..” I look down at the worksheet and the chaotic mess of self-deprecating statements covering it. “I mean...”. I feel an uncomfortable sensation throughout my body, as I look back up at her. “I guess it was _interesting.”_

I see Rachel trying to take a peek at the paper, which just makes my shame and discomfort even worse. I do my best to subtly block it, but apparently I didn’t do a good job...

“It was revolved around _identity_ wasn’t it?”

_Ugh... Shit._

I let out a sigh to try to ease my tension, as I put the worksheet on my end table under a bunch of other sheets of paper.

“Yeah... separating yourself from the eating disorder...” I pause, and feel a chill run up my spine. “...or whatever mental illness or shit you’re going through..”

Rachel gives me a nod.

“Yeah... You know that’s extremely common for people with eating disorders, right?” I can hear her clear her throat as I begin to fidget around in my seat. “You begin to forget who you were before it started because for the longest time, that’s what you were consumed by.” She looks up at me and raises an eyebrow. “What do you think about that?”

All I can do is shrug my shoulders at her question. I’m starting to feel really uncomfortable... The group itself made me feel vulnerable enough, but now therapy... I’m not ready for this.

_Not now._

Rachel must know that I don’t have an answer, became she’s looking at me with such compassion in her eyes, and every time she does that I want to run away—

“Do you know who you are without your eating disorder, James?”

“What?”

I blurt the word out without thinking, and _yes_... I know I’m being avoidant, but I don’t want to talk about this. The thoughts I had during group are still festering inside of me and I’m not feeling good about opening up right now. I’m just _not._

Rachel gives me a smile with her eyebrows raised. I already know that she’s aware of my urge to avoid. She’s gotten to know me so fuckin’ well. That doesn’t stop her from elaborating on her question, though.

“If I was able to magically make your eating disorder and bipolar disorder completely disappear... Do you know who you would be?”

_Uhm... No?_

I begin to shake my head as the avoidance spills from my tongue.

“I don’t know—“

“Do you remember the person you were before all of this chaos in your head started?” Rachel is speaking so gently, and her words are full of empathy and nurture.

I can feel my eyes beginning to widen, only because I’m starting to feel a tiny lump in my throat and I will do _anything_ to stop myself from crying right now.

“Are you able to separate your true self from your mental illnesses?” There’s a period of silence, before Rachel continues. “Or do you feel so intertwined with them?”

I close my eyes a for second, and take a breath in. I can feel my voice shaking.

“I... I mean...” I pause, as I allow myself to feel the discomfort, even though I just want to run away from this. “Honestly... I feel disconnected from who I used to be...”

I see Rachel furrowing her brows, as she looks at me. “Who you used to be?” She looks down and bites her lip, before reiterating. “You mean who you were before your eating disorder developed?”

I immediately nod my head, but feel hesitant to say more. The look that Rachel is giving me is what pushes me to continue. “It’s hard to connect to that part of me, ya know?” I lick my lips and take another breath in, as I attempt to hide the tremble in my voice. “I don’t see myself at all anymore...”

My body automatically tenses up as I finish that sentence, because my voice fuckin’ cracked. If I thought I felt vulnerable before, I was _so_ wrong.

Now, all I want to do is stop. I don’t want to say anything else. I don’t want Rachel to push me. I just don’t want to do any of this right now.

Even though I’m not making eye contact with her right now, I can see Rachel nodding from my peripheral vision. My stomach is twisting and turning into knots right now, and the anticipation of the next question I’m gonna be asked is starting to eat away at me.

“What do you see, then?” Rachel leans her head in closer to me, and the genuine look of concern painted on her face is making me want to hide. “If you don’t see your old self, who do you see?”

_What do I see?_

_That’s fuckin’ easy..._

I let out a light laugh, seeping with sarcasm, as I spit out the first sentence that comes to my head.

“A fucked up, delusional, worthless piece of crap who screwed his own life up.” I bite my lip, and look down. “And... you know... everyone else’s lives...”

The concern on Rachel’s face is even more prominent now that I said that. Why the hell is she even surprised though? It’s not like I’m making shit up!

“That sounds a little harsh”

Her eyebrows are furrowed and she looks like she might actually cry...

_See? You’re even making your own therapist upset! You are a piece of shit—_

The guilt that I’m feeling right now is so heavy, but that doesn’t mean that I feel differently about myself.

“Well...yeah.” I nod and laugh bitterly, before spitting the rest out. “But it’s the _truth._ ”

The sarcasm is being used to cover up my pain... I know that’s what I’m doing, but I’m almost feeling like the initial emotions are stronger than the façade.

Rachel is shaking her head, and I can tell that she wants to challenge what I just said about myself... I’m already expecting it, but I can’t... I can’t challenge the belief that I’m a horrible fuckin’ person... I can’t challenge the fact that I’ve ruined people’s lives because of what I’ve done and how I’ve treated them. I can’t challenge _reality._

“That’s definitely _not_ what I see... and I can guarantee it’s not what other people see in you either...”

I notice Rachel beginning to look around my room, and before I know it her gaze is locked on a picture on my dresser. I automatically feel my stomach drop, as she reaches her arm over to it and holds it up to her face.

“Look at you...”

She’s smiling with a pure sense of wonder, but I hear the emotion in her voice. She stares at it for a few moments before she turns the photo around so I can see it. The second that I do, I feel an uneasy chill shooting through my body.

I remember exactly when that picture was taken, and I can’t help but feel some longing... It was during CrueFest in 2008... I had such an amazing time on that tour. I was just getting used to performing again, but once I started, I remembered how awesome it was...

 _Man_... There is nothing negative that I can think of to say about that time in my life.

The longer that I stare at the photo, the more weighed down I’m feeling... It’s hard to explain... I feel like I might cry if I keep on looking, but at the same time I’m finding it difficult to turn my head away.

From my peripheral vision, I see Rachel’s eyes glistening with empathy.

“James... When you look at this picture of yourself, who do you see?”

I continue staring at the photo in silence. Without looking at Rachel, I can just feel her comforting energy being transferred to me. At the same time, I’m feeling really emotional... My body feels frozen, and there’s a lump in my throat.

“Who do you see?”

After a few more moments, I close my eyes and take a shaky breath in. I’m trying not to look at Rachel in the eyes because I’m scared I’ll actually break.

“I... I see someone who’s passionate... excited...” I smile as I remember how I felt during that time. “Someone who feels fulfilled... and accomplished.... “

I see Rachel nodding her head.

“Yeah... I can see that too.” I slowly move my head towards her and see her smiling. “I see someone who looks like they’re living their life, and feeling a sense of _freedom_... “

I get a chill up my spine the second she says _freedom_ , because I haven’t felt true freedom in such a long time... I almost forget what that even feels like...

“I see you fulfilling your passion... and sharing that passion with your audience... I see someone who is expressive, and radiant....”

The more that Rachel speaks, the bigger the lump in my throat is getting, and the harder it’s becoming to hide the emotions.

“Is there any part of you that is able to connect to _that_ James?”

“No....”

My throat almost feels like it’s closing when I speak. I can feel my heart beating out of my chest, because I don’t want to cry right now. I _don’t—_

“Is there any part of you that _wants_ to?”

It’s the moment that she says that when I feel it... I feel the tears threatening to drip down and there’s sirens going off in my head telling me to escape and run and—-

_No, no, no...._

I’m avoiding eye contact because it’ll make it worse, and now I’m avoiding looking at the picture too. I feel completely frozen, but my body is full of so much emotion... So much _grief._.. So much _sadness_...

“James?”

I don’t even realize that the tears are dripping down until I see Rachel handing me the box of tissues that were on my end table... Her eyes are full of that genuine compassion again, as she speaks in that gentle, nurturing voice.

“What feelings are coming up for you right now, James?”

“I...” My voice is shaking, and I close my eyes. “I just... I miss it.” I reopen them and look down at my lap, letting the tears fall down my face. “I miss who I was...” A trembling breath escapes my lips, as I slowly shake my head. “I miss it _so_ much...”

“Do you ever try to connect to that part of you?”

I immediately shake my head, as Rachel gently coaxes me into opening up more.

“Why not?”

I’m still looking down because I’m uncomfortable, and when I’m vulnerable I want to hide... and _disappear._

Despite how much of me doesn’t want to be honest, I fight against it... I force myself to speak anyway.

“I... I feel like I’ll never get it back.”

Rachel is shaking her head with a sense of urgency, as I feel the emotions weighing me down more and more.

“That’s not true, James.” She cracks a small smile. “That part of you never left. It’s _still_ inside of you.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

“I know... That’s because your brain feels so consumed with everything else, so that part of you is almost hidden... It’s hard to access it because of how strong of a grip the eating disorder has on you at the moment...” There’s a short pause until she continues. “That’s why we have groups like the one you were just in... We want to help you guys re-connect to your true selves.”

It only takes a few moments for Rachel to switch up the subject. She must know I’m uncomfortable...

“What have you been doing in your free time?”

_Wait, what?_

“Nothing.”

I haven’t even looked back up at her yet, but the question she asked isn’t hard to answer.

“Nothing?”

I slowly lift my head up to face Rachel and see her raising her eyebrows.

“I’m gonna take a wild guess and say that means staying in your room?”

A little smirk forms on my lips as I let out a light laugh.

“Yeah... pretty much.”

“I _have_ noticed that you tend to isolate yourself...”

_Wow, really???_

_No shit!_

“That must be rough, locking yourself away while sitting with all of your feelings... and emotions... and thoughts...”

There’s a short period of silence before Rachel breaks it with another question.

“Is this what you’ve done since you’ve been here?”

I don’t want to say anything, so I just nod my head instead.

“Have you ever considered trying to get yourself out even if it’s just for a few minutes?”

_Uhm... definitely not._

“No...” I’m shaking my head now. “I don’t wan—“

“Why?” Rachel’s eyes are full of concern and intensity as she speaks. “Why do you feel compelled to hide away?”

“I... I don’t know—“

“Come on, James.” She’s speaking in that gentle, coaxing voice again, and _fuck_... She’s not letting me get out of this. “What does isolating do for you? What are you getting out of it?”

I can’t help but shrug my shoulders as I force the words out.

“It just... It feels more _comfortable_...”

It doesn’t take a second before Rachel begins challenging my statement.

“Even with your head tormenting you?” She’s giving me a curious look. “When you’re locking yourself in here, you’re alone with all of that noise going off up there....”

_Yeah, okay... So what?!_

_It’s not like I’m not used to it, and you already knew that I’ve been isolating so why are we even having this fuckin’ conversation right now?!_

“What do you do in here? How do you occupy yourself?”

My brows automatically furrow at that question because... _fuck_... I really don’t do anything...

“I... I don’t really...”

I see Rachel’s eyes widen in surprise, but I shake my head, attempting to somehow rationalize what I just said.

“I mean... I’ll fill out menus sometimes if I need to...”. My face is scrunching up, as I genuinely try to think of things I actually do. “Or... If Nikki and DJ visit—“

“I’m talking about when you _don’t_ have visitors or assignments to do.” Rachel cracks a smile, as she uncrosses her legs and casually leans her arm against her chair. “What do you do with your free time?”

_“Nothing.”_

That receives a nod from Rachel, as she continues with her questions.

“And... would you say that makes the noise up in your head louder?”

“Oh yeah.” I take a breath and let out a quick exhale. “Definitely.”

“Have you ever thought about trying to do something to distract yourself?”

 _Ugh... fuck_.

I can’t help but bite my lip out of nervousness and slight embarrassment... I should have known that this discussion was gonna be brought up sooner than later.

“Honestly.... I _know_ that’s what I should be doing, but I just _haven’t_ ...”

“What’s stopping you?”

It takes me a few moments to be able to form a response to that because I never actually thought about it... I’m not sure if I even _have_ a true reason...

“I’m not sure... I guess I don’t have the motivation...”

My face is scrunching up as I continue to ponder, but Rachel’s next question seems to hit the nail on the head.

“So your depression is playing a role?”

My eyes widen as I slowly nod my head with a shrug.

“Probably...”

“I’m gonna take a guess and say that isolating makes your depression worse....”. Am I right?”

_Uh.... yeah._

I can’t even open my mouth before Rachel beats me to it. She’s looking at me with a curious smile.

“Have you ever heard of the term _opposite action_ , James?”

“Uhh...” My brows are furrowing as I think. “Kinda... Maybe?”

“Well... What do you think it means?”

Okay... Honestly, I feel like I’ve definitely heard that expression before from Nikki and I probably do know what it means but I’m just hesitant to answer because I don’t want to embarrass myself if I’m not right... Yes... I know... It’s the perfectionist and people pleaser in me... I _know._

Despite my brain telling me not to take a guess in fear of making myself look like an idiot, I fight against it.

I look at Rachel as I hesitantly speak. “Doing the opposite of what your impulses are?”

“Exactly.”

Rachel is giving me a satisfied smile and I feel my eyes widen a bit because I didn’t think I would be right but... _Phew!_

“For you, in this case it would mean to do something to distract yourself, when all you want to do is lie in bed with all of your thoughts festering...” She looks at me and raises an eyebrow. “Or... getting out of your room when your urge is to stay locked up inside.”

I nod as I listen to her explanation... It makes sense. Nikki has definitely talked to me about this, but I guess he just didn’t use the term _opposite action..._

My train of thought is interrupted by Rachel. “Let me ask you something...” She’s leaning her head in closer to me with an empathetic look on her face that’s giving me chills.

“Do you feel connected to your authentic self when you’re alone in here... with all of your thoughts and obsessions eating away at you?”

I automatically shake my head with urgency as the words spill out of my mouth rapidly. “No.... There’s _no_ way I can feel even try to access that part of me when I’m so stuck in my head—-“

“What if I told you that you can?” Rachel is smiling really big right now and I can sense the her enthusiasm. “I have a challenge for you if you’re willing to take it.”

I feel a slightly uneasy sensation running through my body, because I’m not sure what I should be expecting when she says she’s giving me a _challenge._

“You’re a musician... That’s your passion...”

I see her glance at the picture that she put back on my end table. She looks at it for a few seconds before turning her head back to me.

“You know there’s a piano in the group room...”. She’s giving me a warm, gentle smile. “How do you think it would feel to take a few minutes every day to try to play a song on it?”

A sudden wave of tension shoots through my body as I start shaking my head.

“Why not?” Rachel let’s out a lighthearted laugh. “It’ll get you out of your head for a few minutes, and maybe help you begin to re-connect to yourself...” Her smile gets bigger as she speaks. “It’ll be a good distraction.... A _fun_ distraction...”

“I...”. I’m still shaking my head, and I’m not sure why I feel resistant to the idea but I just do...

“Give it a try, James.” I see Rachel give me a wink before she begins making her way out of the room. “If you do, make sure you write about the experience so I can hear all about it!” She gives me one last smile before she walks out the door.

All that I’m left with after that is a slightly queasy sensation in my stomach...


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second that the song ends, I can feel tears welling in my eyes, and for the first time in a while I allow the tears to fall...
> 
> For the first time in a while, I’m not holding back... I’m letting it out...
> 
> I’m letting it all out.
> 
> This isn’t a gentle, subtle cry... This is a nasty cry... I can taste the salt in my own tears... I’m sweating and I’m shaking... My breaths are hitched and my chest is tight, but I’m also feeling a weird sense of peace in this...
> 
> Now I’m curling up... I’m curling up into that safe, protected, contained ball... The position that my body automatically goes to when I’m feeling vulnerable, and sad, and lost, and scared, and exposed...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i gotta be honest guys... i'm so insecure about my writing and i had such bad writer's block when i started writing this chapter.... the last chapter i put up was so long that i had to save stuff for this one, but then when it came time to start writing this one i blanked out... meanwhile, i had the chapter AFTER this one completely planned out and everything..
> 
> i guess long story short... i feel like this chapter kinda sucks but maybe that's just my brain being an asshole??? i guess we'll see (lol)
> 
> ***WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER***  
> ***eating disorders, irrational/distorted thinking, depression, erratic moods, PTSD symptoms, feelings of guilt/shame/worthlessness***
> 
> P.S: a weird incident happens in this chapter (you'll definitely know when you get to it as you read), but i just wanna let u know that it actually happened when i was in treatment one time... (you really CANNOT make this shit up!!!) i remembered it and i laugh about it to this day... i figured that it HAD to be incorporated, so alas... ;)
> 
> P.S.S: if any of you are wondering where the hell Nikki is with all of this... don't you worry... rest assured knowing that he's around, he's observing, and you will see a lot of him in the next chapter (along with more of our DJ).... (there's a lot of good stuff comin'.... i'm very excited to get started with it!)
> 
> alright... enjoy!!

**DJ’s P.O.V:**

I feel like right now my life is a lose-lose situation, and I don’t fuckin’ understand.

My urges to call James get so high that it sends my anxiety off the roof... When my anxiety skyrockets like that, I’m flooded with every single fuckin’ memory that I’ve constantly been trying to run from... I’ll drink to deal with that, but then the alcohol fuckin’ wears off, and I’ll either have a nightmare, or feel the same feelings all over again.

That’s when I regret my decision to not call James, so then I give into the urges and call him, but in the end that doesn’t fuckin’ help either! The reassurance that I’m seeking isn’t even helping anymore because in the back of my head I’m still incredibly terrified that James isn’t being honest with me, and that he really isn’t doing okay, and that these strangers who are taking care of him don’t know what the _hell_ they’re doing—

There’s a huge part of me that’s aware of how irrational I sound right now, but it’s really difficult to access that part when I’m in such a high state of panic. There’s only one voice in my head that’s loud and clear, and that’s the anxiety-driven one. That’s the one that’s constantly telling me somethings wrong, and that I should check on James, and that something is gonna happen to him if I don’t—

I _know_ he’s doing better! He’s looking better... He’s acting more like himself... He’s complying with treatment, but... None of that matters because in these moments I can’t freakin’ remember that shit!

I just remember all of the _bad_ things.

I’ll go to visit him, and see him... But despite all of the facts that I know about what’s really happening, I still see the sick James... The James that I found half dead on the goddamn bathroom floor... The memories pop up, I’ll hide them, I’ll look at James, and suddenly... _boom!_ He changed from James in recovery, to James fuckin’ _dying._

I’m so _confused!_

Nothing fuckin’ works anymore! Calling him was supposed to help the anxiety, but it doesn’t! Not calling him only escalates everything, so then I drink... I drink even if I do call him because I know I’ll be this close to going into a fuckin’ breakdown over the phone if I don’t. Visiting him doesn’t ease anxiety any-more because even though I see he’s physically alive, and breathing, and okay.... My brain still convinces me otherwise!

I don’t get it!

I don’t get why any of this is happening!

It’s like I can’t tell what’s real or what’s not any-more and that’s a fuckin’ horrible feeling! It’s even worse feeling like there’s something seriously wrong with you... I don’t even know what’s wrong with me! I don’t know why my brain is fucked up. I don’t know why I don’t seem to know how to stop the memories in my head or the nightmares that attack me every night! I don’t know _anything!_

This honestly sucks so much... and I think what’s worse about it is that I still can’t tell anyone. I want to open up, but at the same time, I don’t. I don’t because I’m terrified that they’ll think I’m insane, and I don’t want to process everything I’m already feeling... It’s horrible enough trying to run from it all... It’s horrible enough to deal with it in the periods of time when I’m not disconnected and numbed out from the alcohol... I just can’t fuckin’ do it!

I can’t say anything even though I have a sick feeling that others are noticing... I can hear James’s concern whenever I call him, and I see the looks he gives me when I’m visiting... It’s hard because I wish I could tell him! I wish I could tell him everything but I _can’t._

Nikki already knows something’s up, but I can’t fuckin’ tell him either... Even though it’s Nikki, and I’m not an idiot... I _know_ Nikki knows something. I _know_ Nikki can see through everything, but I _still_ can’t find the strength in me to be honest...

It’s _too_ hard.

~ ~ ~

**JAMES’S P.O.V:**

**_Day Thirty-Three_ **

“How many more of these increases are you gonna give me?”

I know I sound like a annoying, cranky asshole right now, and part of me really feels horrible about it, but the words continue to slip out of my mouth without my control.

Eliza is staring at me with compassionate eyes, and I know that she’s aware of how much I’m struggling, but unfortunately, as the dietitian, she can’t give into what my eating disorder mind wants to hear.

That part of me is silently pleading and begging. That side just wants to hear:

_It’s okay James. You’re right. It’s too much food... We won’t make you eat all of it any-more..._

Reality sucks, because in reality that sentence would never come out of my dietitian’s mouth. As much as I hate to face the truth, the truth is that Eliza is here to help me fight against the demons in my head... not _with_ them.

If she just gave into my manipulative pleads and begs and cries, she wouldn’t be doing her job. I hate how much the truth is exactly what I _don’t_ want to hear, but I’m smart enough to know the reasons why things are how they are.

It doesn’t mean I’m okay with it and that I’m not struggling with facing it, though.

As Eliza let’s out a long sigh, her gaze shifts towards a piece of paper on her clipboard, and I can feel a nervous pit forming in my stomach as she begins speaking.

“James...”. She’s shaking her head. “Your weight just isn’t going up at the rate that we need it to...”.

I’m sitting here completely silent because every time she tells me that, I just can’t fuckin’ comprehend that she’s being honest... It’s a real mind fuck.

There’s been times when I’ve almost started crying right in front of her because of how bad my body distortions have been, and then she goes and tells me my weight isn’t moving enough, or hasn’t moved at all... I just can’t make sense of any of it!

It’s _not_ possible!

I’ve been here for over a fuckin’ month now... I don’t understand how I _still_ need meal plan increases! I just don’t!

“Your metabolism is just skyrocketing right now... Your body is using all of the calories to repair the damage that’s been done... You need _every last drop_ of that energy.”

I don’t care how many times I’ve heard her say this to me. It doesn’t make it any easier. It doesn’t make any of this any easier!

“But... Eliza...”. My body is full of nervous energy, and I want to jump outta my skin. It feels like every fuckin’ time I meet with her I feel the same freakin’ way.

“James, I know...”. Her eyes are full of genuine empathy, and for some reason that’s pissing me off. I don’t know why I’m feeling so irritable but I am.

I want to scream at her and say:

_Don’t say you understand because you don’t! You don’t fuckin’ understand how hard this is for me so stop pretending that you do!_

_STOP!_

I don’t think she gets it. She doesn’t understand how unbearable meals feel now because of how much fuckin’ food I have to eat! It’s not just because of the food itself now... It’s way more than that.

The amount I’m eating is insane, and this is _not_ coming from a “disordered” mindset. I can guarantee that if Nikki and DJ saw how much I have to force down my throat every goddamn day that they would be shocked about it, because I have _never_ seen anyone have to eat this much.

My body is _not_ handling it well. I thought that the GI issues I was having when I first got here were bad, but honestly that was _nothing_. After every freakin’ meal I feel sick... like _nauseous._ This isn’t mind over matter. This is me feeling nauseous because of how full to the brim I feel after having to eat now. My stomach feels like it’s gonna explode, and then my urges to compensate by purging skyrocket up... They shoot right up without any hesitation because having that sensation of fullness is so uncomfortable, both physically _and_ mentally.

It’s physically uncomfortable because of the pain my body is in. My stomach stretches... I have horrible gas... My bloating is painful... I have stomach cramps... Acid reflux... Heartburn... The list can go on and on and on...

It’s mentally uncomfortable because of the memories it brings up. Feeling full mimics the sensations I had after I would binge, which is what led me to purge... Then the emotions that the sensations bring up are the same fuckin’ emotions that binging and purging brought up for me: _Guilt, shame,_ and _disgust._

All of this goes through my head as I force myself to sit there and shove every morsel down my throat, and no one would fuckin’ know because of my compliance. I do what I have to do, even though it feels like it’s gonna kill me.

I realize that I still haven’t said anything to Eliza, and she’s probably wondering why I’ve just been staring off into space for god knows how long now.

“What are you thinking?”

I blink a few times to bring myself back to the present moment even though there’s really no part of me that wants to face the situation I’m in right now. I take a shaky breath in, attempt to relax my muscles a bit, and spit everything out.

“This _sucks._ ”

I put emphasis on that last word because this is truly how I’m feeling... The frustration and anxiety and disgust and powerlessness... It’s all bubbling up.

“You know what, James? You’re right. It _does_ suck.”

She’s speaking directly but I can hear the compassion and empathy in her voice. It’s reminding me a lot of Nikki right now.

“It sucks because you’re fighting against every single thing that your brain has been telling you. It sucks because you’re doing the opposite. It sucks because you’re challenging all of your rituals and habits that you’ve been engaging in.” She puts her clipboard down, and looks me in the eyes.

“You might be mad at me for saying this, but it’s _supposed_ to be hard.”

_Yeah... I wish it wasn’t though._

_I wish it wasn’t so fuckin’ hard._

“I would be way more concerned if you told me that you weren’t struggling.”

As much as I hate to admit it, she’s totally right. Recovery isn’t supposed to be easy...

My leg is shaking as I fidget around in my seat, trying to figure out how to formulate my thoughts into clear sentences.

“I can hardly finish the food I’m eating now... I’m so close to running outta time every freakin’ meal... I don’t know how I’m supposed to eat even _more_ than this...”

Eliza is nodding her head... She’s probably heard this from so many clients before...

“You know, you always have the option of adding more Ensures to supplement. It’ll help decrease the volume of what you have to eat...”. She raises her eyebrows. “Might be easier for you?”

“I... I don’t know...”

There’s something about the Ensures that freak me out even more than the actual food... I’m not sure what it is about those things, but... They’re just...

They make me feel... _yucky._

“I mean, it’s understandable that it’s difficult... I’m not gonna lie. Your body needs a lot of food right now... That’s why your meal plan is high...”.

I can hear Eliza let out a sigh, as she looks at the paper on her clipboard again.

“You _still_ need to restore weight, you’re a man, and you’re freakin’ tall. All of those factors play into why your meal plan is what it is...”

“I _know_ you hate to hear it. I _know_ it’s hard, and I _know_ it’s scary, but I’m here to tell you the facts. I’m here to help challenge everything that your brain is telling you, because whatever it’s saying to you regarding how much you have to eat is _absolutely_ disordered, James...”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath in, because I know...

I know my brain is lying to me.

~ ~ ~

_**POST MEAL CHECK IN** _

_**MEAL:** Dinner_   
_**TIME:** 6:45pm_

_**FEELINGS:** irritated, frustrated, irritable, self-conscious, depressed, worthless, drained, flooded/overstimulated, guilty, shameful, disgusted, annoyed, inpatient, on edge, impulsive, about to blow up/snap, foggy_

_**BODY SENSATIONS:** bloated, full, uncomfortable, headache, thirsty, tense/stiff joints, sore throat, sinus pressure, stomach cramps, gas, reflux, heartburn, out of it, foot is asleep, tired, heavy legs, weighed down physically, hands are cold_

_**URGES:** scream, run away, leave, exercise, body check, purge, restrict, rip paper, curse, throw something, isolate, block out every single sound I hear, hide, curl up, take laxatives, buy cleansing pills, diuretics, pull my fucking hair out, punch something and break it, sign myself out, crawl out of my skin_

_**Dinner was:** a blur, extremely irritating and highly distressing_

_**EVENING PLANS:** absolutely nothing (isolate myself and torture myself by wallowing in my own self-deprecation)_

The second that I begin to make my way out of the dining room and into my room, I’m stopped by a hand on my shoulder. I snap my head around and see Debbie, and my _god_... As if my day couldn’t have gotten any worse.

My whole body is full of uncomfortable tension the minute that I see her open her mouth.

“You need to come to the group room.”

I can feel my heart beating out of my chest, as I try to contain the frustration that is so close to spilling out of my body.

I give a look of confusion and furrow my brows.

“Why—“

“Now is not the time for questions, James.” She’s speaking quickly and I sense the annoyance in her voice. “We need to go, _now—_ “

I don’t have any time to say anything back to her before she grabs my hand and leads us there. There are so many fuckin’ questions in my head right now and I have no fuckin’ idea why the _hell_ I’m being dragged here when this is supposed to be _free_ time—

“Oh, there he is!”

The second that I walk into the group room, I’m met with wide eyes from every single person, including the therapist.

“We didn’t know where the heck you were!”

_Uhh... Well... I was just about to go into my fuckin’ room and hide from all of you until my ass was dragged here!_

I’m trying to keep a straight face. I don’t want to show how irritable I’m feeling right now, but it’s so hard. I still haven’t even moved from the spot I’ve been standing in. Everyone is still just staring at me, and for some reason I’m starting to feel backed into a corner, even though I know I didn’t do anything wrong—

“Come in, James...”. The therapist is signaling for me to join them. “Sit down.”

It’s incredibly hard to get myself to fall into a chair, but when I do, I feel even more tense than I did before.

The stares in the room feel overpowering, and the energy in here just feels... awkward... Maybe if I break the silence this can be a little more comfortable?

“Uh...” I begin scanning the room with a hint of uncertainty in my voice. “What the heck is goin’ on?”

“Apparently there’s an intruder on our property...”.

My eyes feel like they’re about to pop out of their sockets just as I hear that sentence coming out of Nicole’s mouth. She actually looks like she’s about to start laughing, and I can hear the sarcasm in her voice. I can also see Debbie glaring at the both of us from the corner of the room...

“What?”

I can’t tell if I want to laugh or scream more right now...

_Is this a fuckin’ joke?_

“Now... I don’t want any of you to be freaked out, okay?” The therapist is talking now and her tone of voice is so gentle. “One of the security cameras caught footage of someone outside the facility...”

Part of me really wants to just say, _so what_ , because I don’t understand how this is an issue when we have visitors come here all the time—

“Someone informed us of this while you guys were having dinner, so we had to follow protocol and call the police just in case this is something serious...”. She’s looking around the room now. “There are four cops here right now, and they asked us to stay here in the group room until they are done investigating.”

I feel a pit forming in my stomach immediately after she says that because...

_Fuck._

My eyes are beginning to widen and I hope it’s not noticeable to everyone else here.

_That means I can’t go in my room..._

There’s a part of me that’s wondering if this was some twisted plan of Rachel’s... Did she plan this out so then I would be forced to stay out of my room?

I can’t fuckin’ hide here... I’m stuck out in the open around everyone else, and I can’t freakin’ walk out because I’ll have to come right back inside. I can already feel the therapist’s eyes on me. I have a feeling she already knows what I’m thinking, and I also bet she has a weird sense of satisfaction knowing that I can’t give into my isolation urges.

“How long do you think this is gonna be?”

I can’t help but ask the question, and I can feel the tension in the room. Everyone probably wants to call me out _so_ badly right now. I already know it—

“It shouldn’t be long, but for the time being, we have to stay here.”

My heart is racing right now, and so is my fuckin’ head!

“Wait, what if we have to pee?”

I almost feel a slight sense of relief knowing that I’m not the only person in here who’s questioning the craziness of the situation.

“You’ll be able to hold it... This really shouldn’t be long...”

I take a deep breath in, as I try to make sense of how the fuck I’m gonna be able to sit in here for god knows how long.

“Hey, think of this as a good thing!” The therapist is smiling now, as she leans back on her chair. “Let’s take advantage of this time to connect and bond with each other!”

_Oh.... Yes! Perfect!_

_It’s not like that’s the exact opposite of what my plans were..._

~ ~ ~

_**One hour later:** _

I have never wanted to walk out of a room so badly in my entire life...

Look, this isn’t because I don’t like people. This isn’t because I don’t want to connect. I know I’m coming off as an asshole, but that’s not it... I’m feeling so vulnerable right now. Everyone knows how I run to my room after meals because I feel so fuckin’ exposed and unsafe in my body... It feels safer for me to hide away... I feel like my layers are peeled off when I’m vulnerable and forced to be out in the open, around everyone when I’m feeling all of this internal discomfort.

I don’t know how long we’ve all been in here for, but I’m not handing this well. I’ve been hiding in my fuckin’ sweatshirt, curled up on the chair that I’m in, and I look like a goddamn hermit. I get it, okay, but if I can’t hide in my room, this is the closest that I can get to feeling like I’m concealing myself...

The therapist has been trying to get all of us to engage in some kind of game. I can’t. I don’t care that everyone in the room is. I don’t care that Debbie’s glare is burning a hole into my soul right now. I don’t fuckin’ care that everyone is staring at me wondering what the hell I’m doing right now!

I don’t care!

I don’t want to engage because I feel too uncomfortable. I’m starting to become really hyper-aware of my body sensations and that in itself is traumatizing enough! But... having it happen in front of everyone.

_God help me..._

“James, I’ve noticed that you haven’t participated in our game.”

I snap my head up at the therapist’s voice, and all I want to do is curl myself up even tighter than I am right now.

“Is there a reason why you’re withdrawing?”

_Uh... yeah. Maybe because this is what I usually would do if I was allowed in my freakin’ room... Maybe because I’m so fuckin’ uncomfortable right now and can’t handle feeling so exposed and so vulnerable—_

“I’m doing therapy assignments—“

It’s actually not a lie... I do have my notebook with me, and both Eliza and Rachel have given me assignments that I haven’t done, so I figured that it would feel more comfortable doing that than engaging with everyone else.

I’ve actually done a few already... Eliza’s assignments in particular, since they’re easier... They’re not as uncomfortable as Rachel trying to make me dig deep into the depths of my soul...

**_What are your Nutrition Goals?_ **

_1\. Eat a wide variety of foods_   
_2\. Choose foods based on preference/body cravings, not ED driven_   
_3\. Eat intuitively again (be flexible with meals, be able to eat out without checking the menu beforehand, pick food in the moment, eat more some days/less others)_   
_4\. STOP COUNTING CALORIES!!! (And macronutrients, especially protein)_   
_5\. Stop my food rituals_   
_6\. Eat without negative emotions coming up because of it_   
_7\. Learn appropriate portioning_   
_8\. Eat according to hunger and fullness_   
_9\. Don’t read food labels_   
_10\. Hydrate (in moderation... meaning don’t restrict fluids/don’t overdo fluids)_

I finished that one really fast... Me and Eliza have talked about my goals but I never actually wrote them down, so I figured it was time to do that.

_**How do you feel about giving yourself permission to eat the foods you want or the amount you need? What are your fears?** _

_If I give myself permission to eat the foods that I’ve considered unsafe and “bad”, I get terrified. The beliefs attached to these foods hold me back from being able to welcome them into my life. Even though many of the fears I have about these foods are not true, I still cannot believe they aren’t. The eating disorder loves to rationalize everything or twist it in some fucked up way. It blinds me from the rational, scientific nutritional facts, and leaves me sucked into false, distorted nutrition information, that leads me to become my own dietician — which for anyone is unhealthy if you don’t have experience or excessive education in that field, but if you have an eating disorder it’s even worse because you are already distorted and maladaptive with your eating patterns that you’re just making the disorder worse by deciding what your nutritional needs should be (and what your weight needs to be)._

_If I give myself permission to eat the “bad” foods, I will feel weak and worse about myself than I already do. Weak because I gave in and ate something BAD, and then guilt and shame overpower my soul. I tell myself that I just poisoned my body and that now I have to punish myself for eating something FORBIDDEN - so I force myself to vomit, or I force myself to exercise. If I eat bad foods, I feel like a bad person— because I don’t deserve to eat what I actually want. I am a bad person, so all I deserve in my life is to be miserable all the time. I don’t deserve to be happy. I deserve to just torture and hurt myself. I don’t deserve to enjoy my experience with food — to savor and experience positive emotions in the presence of food, to me, is forbidden. It’s off limits. I feel like a glutton. I feel guilty and greedy if I do something that I want because bad, worthless people like me don’t deserve good things—_

“James?”

I suddenly stop writing when I hear my name, and see the therapist staring at me again.

“Would you like to _try_ to participate?”

_For the last fuckin’ time... NO!_

My body is holding onto so much tension, and the longer that I’m sitting locked up in this room, the worse all of my distortions are getting... Shouldn’t the cops be done investigating the facility by now?!

“I’m... I’m good.”

I force a smile, even though I feel like screaming right now.

Apparently my answer wasn’t what everyone wanted to hear... Now they’re all looking at me, and I’m feeling slightly pressured.

“Are you though?” I can see Nicole raising her eyebrows at me, and my brain is already conjuring up ways to avoid this conversation. “Come on James...”. She’s shaking her head and smiling. “You can’t fool us... We’ve all done the same shit as you, buddy.”

My stomach immediately drops after her statement because I wasn’t expecting to be completely called out like this—

“We never see you outside of meals or groups, because you run straight to your room and hide.”

She’s being blunt, but she’s not being rude about it. She’s being genuine... I realize this, but that’s what makes me uncomfortable. I’m uncomfortable because people seem like they actually give a _shit—_

“Like... I can tell you’re _not_ havin’ a good time right now. You’re livin’ in isolation nation... You’re literally curled up in your big ass sweatshirt.”

Okay... Part of me almost wants to laugh at the _isolation nation_ remark because it’s not like she’s lying. She has that same sarcastic sense of humor that I use when I’m trying to deflect in therapy... and in life.

“And I know you like to put on this front and pretend everything’s _“all good”_...”. She makes quotation hand motions, as she says those last two words. “... but dude... We all know you’re not _really_ feelin’ okay.”

She pauses, as I feel myself getting antsy. It’s nervous energy. It’s discomfort. It’s me wanting to run away—

“When you’re around DJ and Nikki, I see a completely different James...”

My eyes are bugging out right now, but I hope my hood is covering enough of it up so no one can see.

“You just seem so comfortable, and open, and unrestricted... You seem more at peace when they’re around...”

As she says that, a chilling tingle shoots up my spine, and I can feel my heart beginning to race.

“Honestly, we miss you around here... I wish I could see more of you.” She shrugs her shoulders and smiles. “You bring really good energy when you’re in groups... Even if you don’t say anything, your soul still lights the room up.”

I feel so frozen in my seat, because I don’t know how I’m supposed to react to this... I don’t know what to say because I don’t understand how she can even say these things about me.

I’m a piece of fuckin’ _shit._

Nobody seems to agree with my brain, because every time Nicole opens her mouth and says something, it receives nods from everyone else in the room, including the therapist, who’s looking at me right now.

“James, how do you feel hearing all of this?”

_Uncomfortable._

_Vulnerable._

_Exposed._

“I....”. I can’t even form a coherent thought and I’m having trouble getting words out because of how vulnerable I’m feeling right now. My mouth feels dry, my chest feels tight, and there’s a hollow in my fuckin’ stomach that’s making me feel sick—

Before I can even attempt to say anything, I suddenly hear a knock on the group room door, and jump at the sound.

“You guys can come out now!”

I don’t think I’ve ever felt a bigger wave of relief wash over me before than I have in this moment.

~ ~ ~

_**11:00pm** _

Well... today was a fuckin’ _trip._

After staying locked in the group room for what felt like hours, another therapist assured us that everything was okay, there was no sign of a break in, and if anything, we should check our belongings in case something was missing... Nothing was missing though. Everything’s alright.

Our last snack of the day is usually at 9, but because of the shit that happened, it ended up being at 9:40... I’ll be honest. The time change made me extremely anxious because eating late at night scares the shit outta me, but I got through it... Immediately after that, we were all dragged into the group room for _another_ fuckin’ group.... at 10:15pm.

I have no idea why we had a group so late... I have no idea why the therapists even stayed here this late... It was ridiculous... We were asked to process our feelings around what happened with the “intruder”, but since everyone was half asleep, it really wasn’t productive.

Oh, by the way... The “intruder” wasn’t even an intruder. It turns out that the people who were on our property were only here because they accidentally threw a football over the facility’s fence, so they went to get it...

There is _never_ a dull moment here, I’m tellin’ ya...

~ ~ ~

**_Three days later:_ **

Today has been... _horrible._

You know those days when shit hits the fan the minute that you wake up? Well... that’s how today started...

I walked into breakfast just to see another surprise switch from Eliza, despite me choosing different foods on my menus when I fill them out. Apparently it doesn’t matter, because she went and changed something on me anyway. I don’t think I have to elaborate on how I handled that...

It _wasn’t_ good.

My moods are so erratic, and Dr. O didn’t hesitate to bring that up when she pulled me out a group to meet with me... She spent the session talking about my meds... And how maybe trying a new one might be in the books.

Rachel pulled me out of a difficult group, which I was initially relieved about, but then I wasn’t anymore, because she point blankly asked if I’ve been doing the _challenge_ that she gave me...

It’s been five days since she suggested the piano as a way to try to reconnect with myself... It’s been five days and I haven’t stepped foot out of my room during my free time, besides that shit show of a night with the freakin’ intruder incident, but other than that... not _once._

Part of me is frustrated, because when my rational side peeks out, I can hear it loud and clear... There’s been so many opportunities where I could have gone in that group room to play the piano, but I just refused to... During that whole lockdown fiasco, I could have easily went to the corner and played it... We were locked in the damn group room for God’s sake! There was no better opportunity than that, but of course I just avoided... that’s all I fuckin’ do... _Avoid._

I’m trying to figure out why... and I don’t have an answer. Of course I know why I avoid _certain_ things... But the piano? I’m not sure why I feel so reluctant and resistant to the idea of it... I don’t know why there’s a part of me that feels vulnerable thinking about trying to connect to who I was before this shit happened to me...

Anyway... After my session, I went back to my room and staff informed me that DJ called twice... That made me feel extremely uneasy, because despite me being here for over a month now, and me trying to reassure him that everything’s alright, he’s still calling left and right... and he’s just sounding worse every time I talk to him... I wish I knew what was going on and how to help, but I don’t...

I had to drag myself to lunch immediately after, which was the worst time, because eating when emotions are festering inside of me is not a fun time... All I thought about during that meal was DJ, and I ended up being extremely close to running out of time because of how slow I ate.

As if all of that wasn’t enough, I had music therapy group right after lunch... And I wish I fuckin’ didn’t. All it did was send me into an emotional whirlwind...

It was about connecting feelings to music, and we were all asked to pick a song for the therapist to find on Spotify to play for the group... I was already not feelin’ it from the start because it was right after a meal and I felt vulnerable, but I felt even worse emotionally once someone chose _Life is Beautiful_ as their song to play. The second that I heard DJ’s beginning riff, I froze up, my eyes widened, and I felt like I was gonna be sick.

Everyone was giving me compassionate looks, which were supposed to be comforting, but for me I just felt the opposite. I felt exposed... Vulnerable... and sad... It was once I felt tears threatening to pour outta my eyes that I escaped.

It’s the first time that I’ve walked out of a group since I’ve been here.

I just couldn’t handle it... I couldn’t handle being in there and breaking down in front of everyone. I felt suffocated and boxed in, so I just left... The second that I got to my room, I closed my door, despite knowing that staff would open it again, found a spot in the far corner, curled up into a ball, and broke down crying.

I didn’t want to leave my room... I wanted to hide more than I ever did... I ended up curling up in the fetal position on my bed, and before I knew it, I drifted off... I must have exhausted myself so much from all of the crying.

It wasn’t long before I was gently woken up by a tech, telling me it was time for dinner... I felt so disoriented that I didn’t realize that I must have slept through the announcement for our snack... It was hard to get myself up to go to the meal, but somehow I did... I felt numb, exhausted, and just plain... _drained._

I hardly remember dinner because of how disconnected I felt... It felt like I was just going through the motions to get through it. I didn’t even feel like I was really _there._

Honestly, the whole day feels like a blur at this point, but all I know is that right now... I’m not feelin’ okay. Right now, every emotion that I disconnected from during the day is hitting me right in the face.

Because I slept through a snack, I had to make it up at the last snack of the day... I wasn’t expecting to walk into the dining room to see _two_ fuckin’ Ensures along with the snack that I never made it to...

I have no idea how I even got through that, but somehow I did... I did, but I’m here to tell you that right now, I am _not_ okay...

The noise up in my head is _so_ loud.

_Eliza is fuckin' nuts for giving you so much goddamn food to eat! She doesn't know what the hell she's doing! No one eats as much as you, especially when you add in all of those fuckin' Ensures! Doesn't she know that she's making you gain weight at an unhealthy speed? Huh?! Doesn't she? She probably does but she doesn't give a shit about you! No one gives a shit about you----_

I hate this! I hate that despite being here for this long, the voice up in my head is still as loud as it was! It actually feels louder... It feels louder because I've been rebelling against what it's been telling me to do since I've gotten here, and it's pissed... It's pissed, but it's torturing the _hell_ out of me, and it's so hard to try to fight back... It's so hard to talk back to it, because it's so goddamn powerful! Rationally, I know it's not, because it's a voice inside of me and my true self has the power, but I can't access that healthy part! It feels so hidden and blocked away!

This is _horrible!_

I can't fuckin' relax. We finished that snack an hour ago, and all I've done since then is curl myself onto my bed hoping to block out the noise, but it's not working! Nothing works!

I can't even get comfortable... I'm fidgeting around, and I want to hide. I want to crawl out of my skin and I have so much nervous energy right now that it's hard to stay still, but at the same time, I don't want to move.

I _can’t_ move.

I’m sick of feeling so... _trapped._

~ ~ ~

**DJ’s P.O.V:**

**_10:30pm_ **

Sometimes I wonder what the point of trying to go to sleep even is if I’m always gonna dread it like this...

I’m nothing but exhausted, and if I wasn’t so terrified of my brain torturing me in my sleep, I would have fallen asleep already. Instead, I’m just curled up tightly into a ball... on the couch downstairs in James’s studio. Nothing new... Nothing different... Just the same fuckin’ shit...

Rocco comes down here a lot. It’s almost like he knows what’s goin’ on and he’s attempting to comfort me or something. He’s just staring at me right now, with wide eyes... My face is half hidden by my hands, but I can still see him, and I bet he still sees me.

My brain feels foggy from the alcohol I drank, but it’s wired at the same time... It’s so hard to explain this feeling... I’m tired. I’m fuckin’ tired of this shit, and I’m tired of being haunted, and I’m just fuckin’ _tired._

I’m tired and I want to sleep, but I don’t.

As much as I prepare myself to wake up multiple times a night crying or screaming or punching something... it doesn’t even matter.

It’s never gonna get _any_ easier.

~ ~ ~

**JAMES’S P.O.V:**

**_11:00pm_ **

There it is... The piano in the far right hand corner of the group room...

Usually we're not allowed to be in here this late at night, but because Rachel feels very strongly about me trying to reconnect to my true self, she informed the night staff that I'm allowed in here...

I don't even know what I'm feeling right now... It's hard to put words to it, but I'm having a hard time getting myself to move closer to the instrument.

I've been standing outside of the door, and I feel frozen. There's an uneasy pit forming in my stomach the longer that I just stand here and stare at that piano. I haven't even stepped inside the room and I already feel my body filling up with emotions... Maybe _longing._

Well... That's why Rachel wants me to do this, isn't it? She wants me to connect to the genuine part of me... She wants me to get in touch with my _soul_... The part of me that is covered up by my eating disorder, bipolar disorder, depression, self-hatred...

I'm still unsure of what compelled me to even come here in the first place... I'm just feeling a lot, and I can't get out of my head, and the rational side of me is saying that right now might be a good time to try this out.

_James... Come on... I know how hesitant you feel about doing this, but just try to at least walk over to the piano... Just look at it... Observe it... Take in all of its detail, and then feel it out, and see if you can try playing something._

I don't know why there's a part of me that feels so resistant to the idea of this... I can't even explain it... I'm just staring at the thing and can already feel myself wanting to run away.

_Think about the Music Therapy group that you had earlier today... Think about how you felt in that picture framed in your room..._

It's hard to really focus on that rational voice because it's being blocked out by my anxious thoughts revolving around the Ensure that I drank at snack... I can still feel it moving around in my stomach, and that sensation is making me feel extremely hyper aware of my body right now...

_You're taking up too much space right now, James! Your body is expanding and your clothes are too fuckin' tight and you're gonna fuckin' explode---_

I can feel my heart beating out of my chest, as I squeeze my eyes shut and attempt to do a dialogue...

_**ED Thought:** My clothes are too tight on me._

_**Healthy Self:** Body dysmorphia isn't only seeing distorted, but also includes feeling things that aren't real. Your perception of how your clothes are fitting might be just as skewed as your perception of yourself, so you cannot trust what you see OR what you feel._

These dialogues only work for like five seconds... They work in the moment but then that voice just screams louder and louder and louder...

Before I know it, I’m sitting at the piano... and... I don’t even know how I got myself here... I don’t even know what the _hell_ I’m doing right now.

I feel so uneasy... My heart is about to pop out of my chest, and my hands are fuckin’ shaking. I haven’t touched the keys. I haven’t done anything, but just sat on the seat, and I already feel like I’m gonna throw up...

I’m squeezing my eyes shut now attempting to take some deep breaths. My hands are in fists and my jaw is clenched. I’ve been told that tensing your whole body up and the relaxing it can actually ease anxiety...

When I open my eyes again, I feel a tiny bit calmer... I’m staring at the piano... I’m staring at the keys...

_This is it._

I gulp.

I’m taking the leap... I’m gonna try it.

It takes a lot for me to reach my arm out to touch the piano. The second that my shaking hands make contact with the keys, I feel a lump in my throat.

My brain is telling me to run away and forget about this. It’s screaming at me to resist and to not do this, but... But... There’s a small part that is convincing me to stay, even though I feel like I’m gonna break down right now.

I force myself to play a few notes... It feels more excruciating than it should be... I never thought getting myself to start playing the piano would feel this painful, but it is. Right now I’m feeling a lot.

I’m feeling... a _lot._

After a few more notes, and uncomfortable sensations throughout my body, I decide that it’s time to start singing...

_“All alone in your house of panic.....”_

My voice is fuckin’ shaking so bad, and I almost feel like I’m about to choke on my words, but I keep going...

_“And all the things that you love make you manic...”_

I can’t even put what I’m feeling into words... This just feels so fuckin’ _unfamiliar._

_“You look like you could use a friend... Someone to make this madness end....”_

It makes no sense that it feels unfamiliar because I’m a musician... But... Rachel’s right. I haven’t connected to this part of me in so long...

Yeah, I’ve performed on tour, but it wasn’t like this... It was me hiding the darkness from everyone... It was me keeping on my mask and facade... It was me pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t.

_“And in a little while... all the noise in your head will fade away....”_

I can hear my voice crack as I start singing the chorus... That’s what’s different about this... I’m actually letting myself feel as I sing... I’m not pretending, and I’m not hiding...

I’m letting it happen.

_“And you will find some relief then.... Yeah you will find some relief then...”_

In the back of my head, memories of me performing this song on tour in the middle my first horrible body dysmorphia episode keep popping up... I feel a chill shoot up my spine...

This is different.

I’m _making_ this time different...

_“And in a little while.... all the weight in the world feels like a light rain....”_

Playing this slower on the piano feels way more emotional to me... The words already have so much meaning and hit close to home, but when it’s sung like this... It’s stripped down... It’s raw.

It’s _exposed._

_“And you will find some relief then...”_

As I sing more, I’m getting more comfortable with it, so I allow myself to sing a little louder. My voice is shaking less each time I sing a verse, and hitting the keys feels a lot more natural... Intuitive... Automatic...

_“Your heart beats but you feel like you’re dying...”_

Every time I sing this song... Whether it’s on tour or in my house or even now... The lyrics will always give me chills... Especially _now._

_“You’re so numb but you can’t stop crying...”_

If any song describes how I’ve been feeling this past year... On tour... Here in treatment... Trapped in my head... In my body... It’s _this_ song.

_“You look like you could use a friend... Someone to make this madness end...”_

I’m not sure when I started belting the words, but I can’t stop now... I don’t know when I stopped paying attention to the noise in my head either...

_“And in a little while... all the noise in your head will fade away....”_

It’s like... Now all I’m focused on is the music... The words... My hands on the piano keys... The mesmerizing sounds that this instrument is creating...

_“And you will find some relief then... Yeah you will find some relief then....”_

The more I sing, the more I’m remembering how things used to be... I’m remembering how I felt in that picture that Rachel looked at... I’m remembering it all...

_“And in a little while.... all the weight in the world feels like a light rain....”_

I’m _feeling_ it all...

_“And you will find some relief then....”_

I’m _feeling_ it all so much... that in this moment... I’m almost forgetting where I am right now...

_“Yeah, you will find some relief then...”_

It almost feels like things are _normal..._

The second that the song ends, I can feel tears welling in my eyes, and for the first time in a while I allow the tears to fall...

For the first time in a while, I’m not holding back... I’m letting it out...

I’m letting it _all_ out.

This isn’t a gentle, subtle cry... This is a nasty cry... I can taste the salt in my own tears... I’m sweating and I’m shaking... My breaths are hitched and my chest is tight, but I’m also feeling a weird sense of peace in this...

Now I’m curling up... I’m curling up into that safe, protected, contained ball... The position that my body automatically goes to when I’m feeling vulnerable, and sad, and lost, and scared, and exposed...

Through my tears, even though my head is down, I can still somehow make out a shadow by the group room door. The closer it gets, the clearer it becomes...

“James?”

_Nicole._

I don’t look up... I can’t... I can’t speak, so I just stay where I am, still allowing the tears to fall...

Before I know it, she’s standing right next to me, and I can feel her rubbing soothing circles onto my shaking frame.

“I’m _so_ fuckin’ proud of you...”

She’s whispering, but loud enough for me to hear her.

“It’s about time you shared your amazing voice with us...”

I’m able to slowly lift my tear-streaked face up, and when I do I’m met with a genuine smile from Nicole.

“Tell your eating disorder to go to _hell._ ” She’s laughs and nudges me.

“It’s got _nothin’_ on you.”


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The liquor I found on the floor near the couch...” His expression of concern is piercing, and the longer I look at him, the more defensive I’m feeling. “Are you drinking to try to deal wit—-“
> 
> “No.” I’m shaking my head with urgency now, and my intense resistance is showing in my words. “Why are you—“
> 
> I can’t even finish before Nikki cuts me off in an urgent tone.
> 
> “Why am I asking you these questions? Why am I doing this?”
> 
> There is such intensity in Nikki’s voice right now, and I can hear the pain... The persistent worry... He’s staring at me, and his green eyes feel like daggers going into my heart.
> 
> “It’s because I care about you, DJ, and you’re worrying the hell outta me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:  
> ***PTSD symptoms (nightmares, flashbacks, dissociation), eating disorders, alcohol use***
> 
> i don't have much to say other than the fact that i procrastinated on proofreading this chapter until so late, which is why i'm basically posting this half asleep right now!!! i also had a hectic day involving leaving my wallet on the bus to work so... that was.... fun (not.)... i have to go to the lost and found to get it tomorrow lololol
> 
> anyway... hope you E N J O Y :))

**JAMES’S P.O.V:**

**_Day Thirty-Seven_ **

Yesterday was rough, but now that I think about it, in a way, I’m actually happy I took that leap and played the piano...

I didn’t think it would have made any impact when I tiptoed into that group room at 11 at night, but it did... It really, really did...

I never would have thought that four minutes could have felt so powerful.

For those four minutes that I sang, I forgot I was in treatment. For those four minutes, I felt like a _normal_ person. For those four minutes, I forgot I had an eating disorder, and depression, and bipolar disorder. For those four minutes, my eating disorder mind was silent.

I felt a glimpse of my genuine self, and my eating disorder was put on the backburner...

 _James_ was in the room... My sick, fucked up, delusional, disordered self _wasn’t._

Those four minutes were the first time in a while that I felt at peace with myself... because I was doing something that I love, and that is all I was thinking about. I was _present._ 100% in the moment, focusing on my singing. I don’t have the right words to describe this... I just don’t remember feeling something like this in such a long freakin’ time...

It was powerful in the way that I felt like I was able to release... I felt a weird weight come off of me, and by the end of it, I broke down... I can’t tell if they were happy or sad tears... I don’t think they were painful... It was a _good_ cry.

I wasn’t expecting Nicole to be outside the group room door... I thought everyone was asleep, but she wasn’t. For the first time in a while, I didn’t resist someone else’s support and comfort. For the first time in a while, I actually allowed myself to receive nurture.

It was uncomfortable, but I had just exposed myself down to my core and felt raw, so I was already stripped down... For some reason, I didn’t feel the need to immediately run away.

I wonder if maybe I could go back to that worksheet on _identity_ and try to fill out what my _healthy_ self is like... Now that I had this experience, I think I might actually be able to...

~ ~ ~

_**Three days later** _

**NIKKI’s P.O.V:**

_**2:00am** _

The second that I approach James’s house, a wave of exhaustion hits me.

It’s two in the morning... I never go anywhere this late anymore, but I didn’t realize until an hour or so ago that I left my bass tuner here...

I know... I could have waited til tomorrow, but I don’t see any harm in just picking it up now.

I automatically furrow my brows in slight surprise once I reach the garage.

“DJ?”

DJ’s car is still parked in the driveway. I figured it would be. He’s been sleeping here every night, so it’s not like I wasn’t expecting this.

I slowly make my way out of my car and up the stairs to the door of James’s house. I’m about to get my key to unlock the door, but to my surprise, I find it to be open already...

That’s... _odd._

Maybe DJ fell asleep and forgot to lock it... Or, he could have just kept it unlocked since he’s in the house... He would know if someone was inside. Who knows? There are tons of possibilities, but I’m still feeling a bit uneasy...

I take a breath, as I walk inside, making sure to lock the door on my way in. All of the lights are off, and it’s so quiet that you could probably hear a fuckin’ pin drop.

As I slowly begin making my way into the living room to grab my tuner off of the coffee table, I feel something crumbly under my foot that catches me off guard. I pick it up, thinking nothing of it, until my curiosity gets the best of me...

The second that I straighten the paper out and see what it is, I feel a pit in my stomach...

A receipt for a liquor store.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, before grabbing my tuner... My stomach feels like it’s knotted up, and now I have a really strong gut instinct to check on DJ... I’ve always been one to follow my gut, even in situations where I maybe _shouldn’t_ have... But in this situation it feels like a good idea.

I’ve been worrying about DJ constantly... I haven’t been prodding him with questions because I know if he’s not ready to open up to me, he won’t... It’s been hard to just sit back and let him do what he’s doing, even though I don’t have exact proof that he’s doing anything... Of course, my intuition is saying that he’s not dealing with everything healthily, and that’s also because of my experience... I can sense when things aren’t right, and I always tell people that they can’t bullshit a bullshitter because, well... You can’t.

You can’t bullshit me because I’ve done it all. I’ve used all of the tricks and manipulation techniques. I’ve lied and hidden things during my addiction... You never know how strategic and resourceful of a person you are until you’ve lived through that...

I know DJ’s not okay. I feel it, and I see it. I’ve felt uneasy for weeks being around him because I see how he’s acting, and how he’s not himself... But now... The things that have been stuck in the back of my head are almost confirmed by looking at the receipt...

I’m not gonna just jump to conclusions here, but I have a pretty good idea of what’s going on, and I’m not liking it.

Without letting my thoughts wander even more than they already have, I hesitantly make my way down the stairs to get to James’s studio... I know that’s where DJ probably is. When he sleeps here, he sleeps down there... James was always there... It probably gives him a sense of _safety—_

As I’m walking, I could swear I hear a faint cry. I can feel the uneasiness bubbling up throughout my body, as I open my mouth.

“DJ?”

The pit that I felt in my stomach is just growing bigger, and once I get to the door of the studio, I pause, close my eyes, and take a breath before slowly walking in.

It’s so eerily quiet down here, and for some reason it’s making me even more uncomfortable. I begin to slowly scan the area, and that’s when I realize that my sleep-deprived brain forgot that the couch is in a _different_ area of the studio. I shake my head at myself, as I start making my way through the room to get to the other door.

That’s when I hear that same faint cry in the distance, and I automatically get a chill up my spine, because I _know..._

I know that’s _definitely_ DJ.

Whatever hesitation I felt inside of me to check on him is gone now. When I get to the door, I push it open. There’s still that intense feeling of uneasiness swimming throughout my body, and I can feel my heart in my throat once I come face to face with what’s in front of me.

No lights are on in this room, but I can still make out the black, leather couch, and I can see DJ curled up on it. The position he’s in looks so uncomfortable... It’s like he was thrashing around in his sleep, and couldn’t get comfortable... His body is completely twisted around...

Contorted... Distorted...

The longer that I just stand here looking at him, the more concerned I’m feeling. I take a deep breath, as I slowly lower myself down to the floor in front of him. Even though he’s sleeping, there’s this vulnerability within him that I can just sense, and I don’t know if me being here can somehow bring him comfort in any way... But...

My train of thought is interrupted by the sensation of glass on the floor. My brows automatically furrow because I didn’t remember seeing anything on the ground, but that could have been because I wasn’t this close to the floor...

It’s the moment that I lift the glass up to my face that I feel my stomach twist up into a tight knot...

_Liquor._

_A miniature liquor bottle._

The longer that I observe the bottle, the higher my worry rises. I suddenly have an instinct to look under the couch, and part of me wishes I didn’t...

It’s like DJ just shoved them all under there... There’s a _ton._

Seeing that first one was tough enough, but now seeing a whole fuckin’ collection of them—

There’s a few moments of complete silence, as I stare at the bottles, and then back at DJ sleeping, until suddenly, I hear that cry again...

I snap my head up to see DJ curled up even more, but this time I can see him shaking. He’s using one of his hands to grip the couch, and he’s covering his face with the other... I can feel my heart breaking because now I realize what’s happening.

He’s having a _nightmare._

All of the thoughts regarding the alcohol are quickly washed away, because now all I can focus on is _this._

All I can focus on is how distressed DJ looks like now, and how those faint cries are becoming desperate wails, and how he’s twisting his body up even more than it was before—

“DJ...”. I start speaking in a gentle tone, but even I can hear the urgency in my voice. “Hey... Hey... DJ...”

I’m unsure if touching him will help or make things worse, but before I know it, I’m rubbing very gentle circles onto his trembling frame. My heart feels like it’s in my throat and I can feel tiny little tears welling in my own eyes.

“DJ...”.

My words are cut off by a piercing scream from DJ, and now he’s completely curled into into the fetal position, with both of his hands covering his face... I close my eyes for a moment, as I feel my heart breaking more every second that I’m here witnessing this. When I reopen them, I take a deep breath.

“DJ... This is Nikki...”. I’m trying to speak in a clear, grounding tone, in attempt to bring him back to the present moment, even though I’m feeling a bit panicked myself. “You are here with me... You’re downstairs in James’s studio in Los Angeles, California...”

I don’t even know if DJ can hear anything I’m saying... I don’t know how sucked into his own terrifying reality he is... I don’t know any of this, but I still continue to try to ground him...

“It’s just me and you here... Nothing bad is happening right now... I _promise_ you are safe with me...”

As I’m speaking, I can feel DJ’s breathing slowing down a tiny bit... I continue rubbing circles into his back, and I suddenly feel one of his hands grabbing ahold of my shirt... I feel such a big lump in my throat, as I close my eyes.

“You’re okay, DJ...”. I take a breath. “You’re with me... James is in treatment... He’s safe.... He’s okay....”

Now DJ has his head pressed onto my chest, and even though his breathing isn’t as shallow, I can still make out his sniffles... My shirt feels wet, but I’m letting him cry on me. It’s hard to witness this, and it hurts to see him in so much pain, but he needs this safety right now... He needs it, and I’m here to try to provide it.

I let a tear drip down my face as I feel him gripping me tighter... I hope that this means that my voice has been able to reach him... I’m still not completely sure if he’s awake, or if he’s still in and out...

“I’m here, DJ.... I got you, okay...”

After a few more minutes of me speaking in a soothing tone, and holding him in a comforting embrace, I feel DJ’s body beginning to relax in my grip. A sense of slight relief washes over me when I realize that he’s free from the nightmare.

At the same time, I just can’t shake off the intense concern that I have about him and all of the alcohol that I found.

He’s suffering, but he’s staying quiet about it, and that’s what worries me the most about this.

The knife of suffering cuts so much deeper in _silence..._

~ ~ ~

**JAMES’S P.O.V:**

_**11:30am** _

I’ve gotten myself to play something on the piano for the past few nights, and Nicole’s been coming in the group room to listen... We’ve actually been talkin’ a lot at night... when no one’s around.

I can’t pinpoint what it is exactly, but there’s something about her that makes me feel comfortable enough to expose some of myself to her.

Maybe it’s her directness that reminds me of Nikki, or maybe it’s just because she shares the same sense of humor as I do... Maybe it’s just her personality.

That girl doesn’t hesitate to call me out on things, and it honestly makes me laugh because so much of the time she almost completely mirrors Nikki.

When I’m isolating during my free time, she’ll always walk by my door and peek her head in. I know she probably wants to come in and drag me out of _isolation nation_ , but dudes and chicks aren’t allowed in each other’s rooms, so she just stands outside of it. Sometimes we’ll have conversations like that if I don’t want to get out, because most of the time I don’t... She’ll just stand there and give me a look that basically screams _‘I see you James... Get the fuck outta isolation... or I’ll tell Rachel!’_

I think her favorite line of all is _‘James, stop doing weird shit.’_ , which basically means she’s calling me out without _actually_ calling me out. I’ve heard her say that to other people here, and it’s always made me laugh... It’s just such a Nikki thing to do... Even though I hate being called out, I know it’s coming from a place of love and genuine concern.

Having her around during meals has actually been making it a tad bit easier to get through them... It’s still excruciating, but having that tiny bit of distraction makes it a little more bearable... especially now that I’m actually willing to try to engage in a conversation while eating. For the longest time, I wouldn’t. I would just disconnect from everything and everyone in order to make it through, but Eliza’s been trying to help me feel more comfortable being _present_ during meals... It’s hard, because being present means I have to connect to being in my body, and I end up being so hyper aware of all of the uncomfortable sensations that send my anxiety off the roof, but that’s part of the exposure...

It’s funny how Nicole just seems to know when I’m just not in a good headspace... Even though I’m usually not, she just must have this sense when things are _really_ rough for me... During really hard meals, she’ll crack a joke and do something really goofy... It reminds me of DJ... Just something as small as a hair ruffle gets me to laugh for a second... It may seem like nothing in the grand scheme of things, but right now it’s what I need to get through, and it helps... It really really does.

I’m not comfortable talking in groups as much as I am one on one... When it’s just me and Nicole at night, I’m able to open up... I mean, we don’t talk about real deep stuff. It’s more of just lighthearted conversations... She asks me about touring a lot, and how it feels to be in a band... I’m honest. It’s just nice, ya know?

Its cool to say that I think I actually made a friend here...

~ ~ ~

**DJ’s P.O.V:**

**_Three hours later_ **

The first thing I feel when I open my eyes is a sharp aching pain in my head. The second is a huge wave of nausea washing over my whole body.

_Figures._

There’s no part of me that’s surprised about this at all... Every fuckin’ morning is like this now, whether I like it or not... I squeeze my eyes shut before reopening them, trying to get my vision to adjust to the brightness of the sun that seems way too blinding for me right now.

I slowly and carefully move myself into a sitting position on the couch. My body is painfully achy and I feel like I strained a ton of muscles... Did I twist and turn and end up in a fuckin’ weird sleeping position? I have no clue, but I must have done something cause I don’t usually feel this bad.

I let out a groan, before dragging my body into the downstairs bathroom... It doesn’t even take a second before I’m hunched over the bowl, creating a toxic vomit and bile filled masterpiece...

_God... It doesn’t get any easier._

You would think that by now I wouldn’t be whining like a pussy about this, but honestly... It fuckin’ blows... Every damn time this happens, it’s horrible.

Once I decide I’m safe enough to stand up, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I’ve never wanted to cringe so much in my life.

I look fuckin’ _terrible._

My face looks drained of all color, and my eyeliner is smudged all around my eyes, which are bloodshot and puffy. It’s also a little embarrassing how bad my dark circles are...

 _Jesus_... Part of me is wondering if I always look this bad... I never really take the time to look in the mirror, but my _god._.. This would be enough to scare _anyone_ away.

I take a deep breath, splash my face with cold water, and attempt to straighten myself out before I make my way upstairs to join civilization.

“Mornin.”

I’m immediately met with Nikki sitting at James’s kitchen table. I can feel my heart skip a beat, because I was _not_ expecting him to be here already.

“Woah.” I raise my eyebrows at look at him with surprise. “You’re here early.”

“Actually... it’s not _that_ early any more.” He takes a glance at his watch, before looking back up at me. “It’s almost 2pm.”

My eyes widen a little after I hear him say that.

_No way... It can’t be that late..._

I feel embarrassment bubbling up inside of me, and I hope I’m not flushing right now. How the _hell_ didn’t I realize? I seriously slept _that_ fuckin’ late?!

I attempt to shake my thoughts off as I walk over to the counter, contemplating whether or not I should make coffee. Maybe it would help my headache and get me feeling a little more normal...

Actually... I’m a fuckin’ idiot. I’m probably dehydrated as shit right now from the alcohol and I’m about to make fuckin’ coffee?! _God_... My brain is just malfunctioning these days.

There’s a few moments of silence, as I try to come up with another plan... It’s pathetic that it’s taking me this long to be able to make a decision—

“How’re ya feeling?”

I blink a few times and turn my head back around to Nikki, who’s giving me a fatherly look. I can feel a pit beginning to form in my stomach which is making me feel a little uneasy.

“Hm?”

Of course I don’t want to be having any conversations about how I’m feeling right now, because I feel like absolute _shit_ and I don’t want to talk about it.

Let’s be real... When do I _ever_ wanna talk about it?

“I’m fine.”

I crack a smile and turn back around, pretending to look around the counter for a cup, just so I could avoid looking into Nikki’s eyes.

“Really?”

Without even looking at him, I can make out his eyebrows raising from my peripheral vision. My heart rate is increasing and the tension in my body is getting stronger...

I walk over to the refrigerator, trying to continue ‘occupying’ myself, as more bullshit pours out of my mouth.

“Uh... yeah.”

I pull out a pitcher of water and begin pouring myself a glass. The tension in this room is killing me, and I feel like I’m about to jump outta my skin because of it. Nikki’s eyes must be burning a hole into my soul right now and that’s just making me want to avoid making eye contact with him even more.

After a few moments of deafening silence, I can hear Nikki take a breath in before he speaks in his typical _I care about you and know you’re not okay_ tone.

“I just need you to be honest with me, alright?”

I’m still not looking at him, but I know he’s staring at me. My body almost feels paralyzed because the anticipation of hearing what he’s about to tell me is starting to eat at me, and I’m _not_ ready—

Another deep breath from Nikki is what snaps me out of my thoughts. Immediately after, he hits me with it.

“Are you still having nightmares?”

I can feel my body go cold the second that the question escapes Nikki’s lips. An uncomfortable sensation is running down my spine. I can’t even answer him. My body feels frozen right now, like I suddenly can’t move the muscles in it.

Nikki must sense my uneasiness, because he asks again, but this time with a much softer and gentler tone.

“Are you still having nightmares, DJ?”

I still don’t answer, but I’m somehow able to turn myself around so I can face him. I feel so fuckin’ exposed right now and I don’t even know why the hell I’m even torturing myself by looking at him right now but—

I immediately shake my head, even though part of me wants to scream _‘Yes! Every goddamn night!’_

“N... no.”

I feel like I’m about to choke on my words as I spit them out. I swear, my throat feels like it’s about to fuckin’ close. I don’t know how I’m even still standing here right now! I don’t know how I haven’t ran outta the fuckin’ kitchen yet.

“DJ...” Nikki lets out a sigh, and the concern in his voice feels like a fuckin’ dagger. “Do you remember anything from last night?”

_No..._

I honestly don’t ever remember anything in the mornings from the night before, besides knowing that I had a goddamn nightmare... But that’s typical. It’s a typical _hell._

I can’t help but feel my stomach beginning to twist into knots, though, because... What does Nikki know that I don’t? And... how does he even know?

 _What_ does he know?

My heart is beating out of my chest, as he looks at me with huge empathetic eyes.

“What did you dream about last night?”

“N... Nothing.”

I don’t hesitate at all to spit that answer out, even though I’m pretty sure he knows it’s straight out avoidance, but I don’t fuckin’ care! I don’t care because I’m _not_ going into detail about this. I am _not—_

I’m just about to walk away, but Nikki stops me by placing a hand on my shoulder. There are little sirens going off in my brain telling me to get the _hell_ outta here, and now I’m feelin’ a little panicked.

“I can’t imagine that it was something _good_...” The empathy in his voice is just making me want to escape even more, and I suddenly feel like I can’t fuckin’ breathe.

There’s a long pause, until Nikki takes a deep breath before looking at me again.

“I heard you screaming in your sleep, DJ.”

_W... What?_

_What?_

_No._

_Oh god..._

_No!_

_NO!_

“When I went to check on you, you were twistin’ and turning... Took you a while to get back to reality...”

Nikki’s eyebrows are furrowed with such intense concern as he speaks, and I can hardly even hear what he’s fuckin’ saying anymore... My body is completely frozen, and the humiliation, shame, and vulnerability that I’m feeling right now is completely paralyzing.

“Has this been happening often?”

_Yes! Every fuckin’ night... Every goddamn night I wake up hysterically crying, or shaking, or screaming and I don’t know what to do to handle it!!!_

_Every._

_Fucking._

_Night._

I shrug my shoulders, because I can’t get myself to say anything. I’ve hardly moved from the spot I’ve been standing in. Nikki is still asking questions but he’s being gentle... He’s talking to me as if I was a scared animal lost in the woods... It’s like he’s trying to fuckin’ _coax_ me into saying something.

There’s such a huge part of me that does want to tell him... There’s a part of me that wants to be comforted so fuckin’ bad right now, but it’s scary. It’s scary being vulnerable. It’s scary exposing everything... even though... even though Nikki already _knows—_

“Does this happen every night?”

_Yes.... Every... Single... Fuckin’... Night._

A few moments of very uncomfortable silence pass before I finally get myself to slowly nod my head... I can feel a lump beginning to form in my throat, and I can feel my whole body starting to shake.

Nikki’s eyes are locked on mine, and I could swear they look like they’re glistening. He’s squeezing one of my hands now, as he nods his head.

“How long has this been going on?”

“I... I don’t know...”. I can feel my face scrunching up, as I speak in a soft, barely audible voice. “Months...”

Nikki’s face is full of genuine concern, and I can tell he wants to help so bad. I can just feel it in his voice and see it in his eyes. He looks away, bites his lip, and stays silent for a moment before turning back to me.

“How have you been coping with these?”

His eyebrows are furrowed and he looks so worried right now... and it’s almost making me feel boxed in.

My heart is beginning to race again, and that gnawing feeling in my stomach is back because I don’t know how to answer this. I don’t want to answer this.

“I... I don’t know—“

Now my words are coming out faster than I want them to, and I’m feeling that urge to run away again.

“DJ....”. The intensity of Nikki’s solicitude is piercing. He pauses for a moment, before taking a long breath.

“ _Have_ you been?”

My stomach drops at his question, and the discomfort I’m feeling is so prominent. I feel like a stoic statue right now, and all I want to do is fuckin’ scream.

_No!_

_No, I haven’t!_

_I haven’t fuckin’ dealt with anything because I CANT—_

“I... I mean....” I start shaking my head. I don’t even know what I’m saying! I don’t even know if I can form any thoughts! I don’t know what the _fuck_ I’m even trying to do right now! “What do you me—“

“Is that what the alcohol’s for?”

My eyes immediately widen after I hear the word _alcohol_ , and I can feel my defenses coming up to the surface.

“What?”

The word slips outta my mouth without my control, but Nikki doesn’t hesitate. He knows I’m lying. He fucking knows and I know it but I don’t care!

“The liquor I found on the floor near the couch...” His expression of concern is piercing, and the longer I look at him, the more defensive I’m feeling. “Are you drinking to try to deal wit—-“

“No.” I’m shaking my head with urgency now, and my intense resistance is showing in my words. “Why are you—“

I can’t even finish before Nikki cuts me off in an urgent tone.

“Why am I asking you these questions? Why am I doing this?”

There is such intensity in Nikki’s voice right now, and I can hear the pain... The persistent worry... He’s staring at me, and his green eyes feel like daggers going into my heart.

“It’s because I care about you, DJ, and you’re worrying the _hell_ outta me.”

Before I know it, he has both of my hands in his, and he’s squeezing them so hard. He’s staring at me with compassionate eyes, but I can’t look at him. I can’t do it! My gaze is locked on the floor now and I can’t fuckin’ look up.

“You’re acting different. You’re not yourself...” He lets out a sigh, before he squeezes my hands even tighter.

“You’re _suffering_... You don’t have to suffer alone... I know it’s not easy to open u—“

_Yeah no shit! That’s why I’m not being open with you!_

I still haven’t lifted my head up, because I don’t want to. I’m trying to not show any emotion right now, because I hate how emotional I am... I feel like a baby for constantly having such intense emotions... and for crying, even though I know I’m allowed to. It just makes me feel like a kid... I should be over all of this by now, but I’m not. I’m not, and I’m embarrassed... I’m embarrassed and humiliated and I just don’t want to talk about it right now. I just _don’t!_

“I don’t wanna talk about it, okay?”

The desperation in my voice makes me cringe because I didn’t mean for it to come out that way but I really _don’t_ want to talk about this, and I still can’t fuckin’ move my head up to Nikki, and I am so close to running away now—

“I _know_ , DJ...” The empathy in Nikki’s voice is overpowering, but he’s still speaking with that intense urgency. “But that’s the problem... If you don’t let it out it’s gonna keep coming out in these terrifying ways.”

The silence that follows that sentence is absolutely deafening, and the discomfort that I’m feeling in my body is making me feel _sick_. I’m frozen again. My stomach feels hollow, my chest feels tight, and there’s a huge fuckin’ lump in my throat that I’m praying won’t explode—

“You can talk to me, DJ...” Nikki’s using that gentle coaxing voice again, and it’s just making me feel even more vulnerable. His eyes are glistening with benevolence.

“What’s going on up there?” He lets go of one of my hands and points to my head. “What does your mind tell yo—-“

“It doesn’t matter.” I’m shaking my head again and I can feel tears threatening to drip down my face now. “It doesn’t mat—-“

“You’re scared...”.

Nikki’s voice is so soothing and gentle... The hollow feeling in my stomach is a lot stronger now, and I almost let out a hitched breath, but I’m able to stop myself.

“You’re scared that something is gonna happen to James... aren’t you?”

It’s in this moment that I can’t do it... I can’t fuckin’ contain the pain any-more. Through the silence, the tears that were welling in my eyes are beginning to drip down now... I can’t help it.

I can’t help it, but I feel so unsafe, and vulnerable and scared...

I feel _exposed._

“You’re re-living it all?”

Nikki is looking at me with tender eyes, and the sadness is so evident in his voice. As the tears continue to drip down, I let out a strained whimper, close my eyes and nod my head.

_Everything._

_Nikki... I’m reliving everything..._

Before I know it, I have my head pressed into Nikki’s chest, and he’s holding me in a secure, grounding, comforting embrace. I’m not even holding back the tears at all now...

“Okay.... Okay.....”.

I can make out Nikki’s soothing voice in between my sniffles, as he rubs my back in a rhythmic pattern.

“It’s okay...”

Nothing feels okay at all right now, but being in Nikki’s arms feels safe... It’s grounding...

“Let it out, DJ... You’re okay...”

I’m _not_ okay, and we both know it, but even so... I still don’t think I’ll be able to build up the courage to be fully open and honest about what’s been going on.

I don’t know if I _can..._

~ ~ ~

**JAMES’S P.O.V:**

_**Day Forty One** _

_**3:30pm** _

It’s cool to see some of the hard things I’m doing here paying off...

I felt like I was gonna be stuck on locked bathrooms for the remainder of my stay, but I was told this morning by Dr. O that everyone on my treatment team agreed that since I’ve been doing well with completing my meal plan, and my weight has been going in the right direction, that I could have my observations lowered to 1 and 30... Meaning, instead of having the bathroom be locked for two hours after meals and an hour after snacks, now it’ll only be for an hour after meals and thirty minutes after snacks... That’s cool. There’s less chance of me having to have a conversation while trying to shit!

I’m also allowed to go on the group walks that we have twice a day... They’re only fifteen minutes and they’re monitored by a tech, but I don’t care! It’s something, and it’s nice to be able to get outside for a little bit... Change the atmosphere... I’ve been told that if my weight stops moving or it drops, the walks will have to be taken away... I get it... They wanna make sure I’m not overdoing it.

I’ll be honest and say that it’s been messing with my head just a teeny bit though. I love being able to actually _move_ , but I catch that little pesky voice in the back of my head telling me to walk faster, and use more energy, and push myself harder... Soon enough I’ll have numbers flying through, and I get a little bit sucked in... Of course if Nicole’s with me she’ll let me know she sees me _doing my weird shit_ , which helps, but still... I feel aggravated at myself... and it fuckin’ _sucks_.

It’s frustrating that the second I’m granted the privilege of doing some kind of movement other than _chair yoga_ that my brain has to go and try to manipulate me into taking advantage of it in a negative way...

~ ~ ~

**DJ’s P.O.V:**

You know... Everyone says that _secrets keep you sick_ , but what if it’s not even a damn secret anymore?

Does it still keep me fuckin’ sick?

Nikki knows my _secrets_ , but here I am... Continuing to engage... Because why does it fuckin’ matter?!

He knows but he doesn’t know how horrible I’m feeling all the goddamn time... He doesn’t know my internal pain, and he doesn’t know how desperate I feel!

I know I should be finding other ways to cope with this but I _can’t._

I _can’t._

Because even though the alcohol only brings me temporary relief, at least it gives me _something._

It shuts off the memories for a little bit... but at least it actually stops them... even if it’s just for a fuckin’ second, that’s _all_ I want... It’s all I _need._

I’m terrified to stop because I know that if I don’t have the alcohol the intensity of the flashbacks and nightmares will just be _worse_... And I honestly don’t think I can handle things being any worse than they are right now...

~ ~ ~

**JAMES’S P.O.V:**

_**11:00pm** _

“You know...” I can hear Nicole take a breath, which breaks the silence that was lingering since I played the last note of _‘Goodbye My Friends’_ on the piano. “I’m really happy you’re here.”

“Hmm?”

“Getting help.” She’s biting her lip now, and looks like she’s trying to figure out how to formulate her thoughts. “Like...” Her face is furrowed and she’s shrugging her shoulders. “I didn’t wanna like, bombard you when you first got admitted and shit but... I was _really_ worried about ya...”

“I never actually told you but...” I hear her let out a slightly nervous sounding laugh, before she continues. “I was at a few of your shows... Always loved your voice and your music...” A warm-hearted smile forms on her face, as she shifts her gaze towards the piano. “That’s why I keep comin’ in here so I can hear you play...”

I can feel a tingling sensation begin to swim through my whole body... I’ve always had such a hard time accepting compliments from others, so I’m not gonna lie and say that I’m not feeling a little uncomfortable right now... However, I know that Rachel would be telling me to _challenge_ that resistance.

And... Even though I’m having trouble hearing nice things about myself, I can tell she’s being genuine... I hear it... I _feel_ it.

“That really means a lot, Nicole...”

I look down for a second and close my eyes, as I feel her gently put her arm around me.

“And...” She lets out a sigh, and looks at me. “Do you remember that one show on the tour...” I look back up at her and see her scrunching her face up. “It was in, Uh... Somewhere in Sweden.” A lighthearted laugh escapes her lips. “I never remember where the _hell_ I’ve been.”

As she’s speaking, memories of the tour are beginning to pop up inside of my head... I don’t usually remember specific details during tours since there is so much going on all the time, and we’re constantly traveling from city to city, but for some reason I’m remembering this very distinctly.

I see Nicole shake her head for a second, before continuing.

“Anyway... I uh... You guys did that hit and run after the show and we hugged...”.

The more she’s speaking, the more I’m remembering... It’s all coming back to me now. I can feel a chill shooting up my spine.

We were in Sweden. I think it was around two days before we went to perform at Grona Lund. During one of our ‘hit and run’ performances, I was giving hugs to fans. There was one in particular that will always stand out to me...

“I had a feelin’ that you were goin’ through something... I didn’t wanna just assume it was _this_ , but...” Nicole lets out a sigh, shakes her head, and looks at me with intense, caring eyes. “Dude, I’ve had an eating disorder for years, and... I could just _sense_ when others are goin’ through it...”

I will never forget the look of genuine concern that was painted across this one woman’s face... After I squeezed her into one of my tight hugs, she looked right up at me and asked:

_“You’re concerning me a little, James... Is everything okay?”_

I’ll never forget how I froze up after that... I remember feeling so guilty and ashamed for worrying not only DJ and Nikki, but also our fans... I was doing _horrible_ then...

I had made a promise to myself that I would avoiding purging as much as possible, but that never happened... I was worn out after our shows... I was finding random bruises all over my body from malnutrition... My stomach was being torn to shreds from eating too much fiber... I was giving myself rug burn from doing abdominal exercises because I had no cushion for my bones—-

“I wanted to just let ya know that I cared...”

It’s the second that Nicole says that when I feel a cold, tingling chill shoot up my spine, and my stomach feels hollow.

It’s in _that_ moment that I make the connection.

I can feel a lump forming in my throat, and I close my eyes for a second before I gather up the courage to open my mouth and say something.

“You... You were the one that asked if I was alright...”

Nicole is nodding slowly, and she gives a small shoulder shrug before answering. “Yeah...”. A nervous, but sweet smile forms on her lips. “That was me.”

“My god...” I’m shaking my head now, because what are the odds of something like this happening... Me being in eating disorder treatment with one of my fans who was concerned about _me_. “What a small world...”

Nicole lets out a lighthearted laugh.

“Right?” She pauses and licks her lips. “It’s funny... Ya never know who you’ll meet in treatment....” I can hear her take a breath. “But yeah... So when I saw you get admitted here... It just... It honestly broke my heart to know what was goin’ on.” I can hear the pain in her voice, and part of me wants to run away, but I’m not. I’m not going to.

“It hurts to see so many amazing people go through this shit... ya know?”

I slowly nod my head, and look down. “Yeah...”. I let my eyes close for a moment as I breathe in. “I know...”

There’s a moment of silence after that... My stomach feels a bit hollow after going into a real heavy conversation, but... I guess that’s what happens in treatment... right? Facing uncomfortable things... Not running away from things... Man, if Nikki knew about this he’d be so freakin’ happy.

Nicole still has her arm around me, and I start rubbing my hand through her hair. I can’t help but wonder what would happen if staff new that we’re still awake right now when we should have been in our rooms an hour or so ago... Even worse... What would they do if they knew that we’ve done this every night since I played the piano for the first time here?

I can’t help but roll my eyes at the thought, and suddenly have an itch to lighten the mood a bit. I playfully nudge Nicole and raise my eyebrows.

“What were ya doin’ in Sweden?”

“Oh!” She has big smile plastered on her face, as she begins explaining her whereabouts. “I was just travelin’ with a few friends... Had just gotten out of treatment a few weeks before...”. She shrugs her shoulders. “Felt like doin’ something adventurous to treat myself for gettin’ through it...”

I don’t even have time to answer her before she continues, but this time I can hear the somber tone in her voice.

“But... Unfortunately, it didn’t last too long...” She rolls her eyes. “What a life we’re livin’ dude.”

There’s the sarcasm... The self-deprecating, sadistic, sarcasm... The same fuckin’ sarcasm that I’m guilty of using all the damn time.

For some reason it hurts to hear Nicole use it, though. My heart breaks knowing that so many people go through this fuckin’ shit... So many amazing, genuine, empathetic people are dealing with this crap, and Nicole is one of them... It hurts. Honestly, I wish she wasn’t here right now... Because I wish she didn’t have to fight these demons.

I automatically start shaking my head.

“Don’t say that.” I can feel my eyes filling up with genuine solicitude, as I look at her. “You’ll get better, Nicole... It won’t be like this forever.”

A small sigh escapes her lips. “I know...” Her eyes are full of compassion as she looks at me. “You should tell that to yourself too, ya know.”

_Me? Yeah... okay...._

It’s almost as if Nicole just read my own thoughts because now she’s giggling, but the expression she’s giving me is letting me know that she’s gonna probably smack me with some truth...

“You’re probably so good at telling other people nice shit, but then don’t do it yourself.”

_There it is._

I’m internally cringing because if that ain’t the truth, then I don’t know what is...

“You’re not a unicorn, ya know.”

My face is already scrunching up into such a confused expression, because what the hell did I just hear her say?

“What?”

_A... unicorn?_

I can’t help but let out a laugh now.

“Never heard of _unicorn syndrome?”_ Nicole looks surprised as if everyone in the freakin’ world should have known about this... It’s funny, I’m not gonna lie. “Every therapist that I’ve had would joke around and tell me I wasn’t a unicorn...” The smirk on her face is just making me want to laugh more, but I’m also really trying to hear her out without joking through it.

“You don’t think the shit you say to others applies to you, but... like... You’re not special. You’re no different. You’re just as deserving of good things as we are.”

_Ha ha.... yeah.... okay._

I immediately shake my head, and smile. “You’re funny.”

“Come on, James.” The look that’s plastered on Nicole’s face right now just screams _‘I’m sick of your crap’_ , and I gotta admit it’s a bit amusing... Being called out can be comical but it’s also uncomfortable when people just _know_ your tricks, ya know.

“You know deep down it’s fuckin’ true... I see you being a people-pleaser all the damn time.”

My eyes immediately widen in fake disbelief, as I raise my eyebrows in exasperation.

“Me? People pleaser?” I shake my head. “Oh _please—_ “

“You’re just as sarcastic as I am, wow!” She playfully nudges me. “Geez, dude... Did you get that from Nikki?”

I can’t even stop myself from laughing at that remark. Nicole’s a fuckin’ savage and I love it.

“Oh man... don’t compare me to Nikki now.” I’m still laughing as I shake my head. “We both know he’s the sarcasm _king_...”

Her eyebrows shoot right up at that. “You’re not that far off, bud.” She cracks a smile, and gives me a tender stare.

“I like the real James... You should keep him around.” She looks down for a moment, puts an arm around me, and stares back at me with reassuring eyes.

“Seriously though, whenever your brain is being a big asshole, you gotta remember how bad ass you are!” A big smile forms on her lips. “You got so many people rootin’ for you, James...”

The intensity and genuine compassion in her voice is giving me chills.

“Every time Nikki and DJ come to visit I just _smile_ because I can just see how close you three are...”. She looks down for a second, before squeezing one of my hands, and looking back up at me.

“They love ya’ James... They care about ya’... Now _you_ gotta give a shit about _yourself_.”

I can feel a lump forming in my throat, because... trust me....

_I wish it was that easy._


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m trying to figure out what’s freaking me out the most right now... Is it the fuckin’ Lo Mein that I’ve terrified to eat, or is it the fact that I’m gonna end up using food rituals and embarrassing myself in front of everyone? Nikki and DJ have seen me eat weird so many times but... I shouldn’t still be eating weird! I should have broken some of the rituals already by being here, but I didn’t!
> 
> I didn’t, and I already know that I’m gonna end up dismantling my fuckin’ egg roll like I’m performing an intense surgery—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise!!! it's an early update!!!
> 
> basically... i had this whole chapter completely planned out, but once i went to write it, it ended up being WAY too long, so i had to cut out the last scene and save it for the NEXT chapter... (this is literally the third or fourth time this has happened to me, its bad lol).. my head is just constantly swimming around with all of these ideas and i want to use them all but i can't!!! (unless you want a fuckin' 2000 page book LOL... cause that's what would happen if i wrote every fuckin' thing that i thought of... i hate condensing !!!!!!!)...
> 
> anyway, i'm feelin' unsure about this one but i feel like a lot of it has to do with the fact that my original plan for it didn't work out and i need to stop ruminating on that !!
> 
> WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:  
> ***DISTORTED ED THINKING, ANXIETY/DISSOCIATION, FEELINGS OF WORTHLESSNESS/GUILT/SHAME, BODY DYSMORPHIA***
> 
> e n j o y :)

**JAMES’S P.O.V:**

_**Day Forty-Two** _

_**10:00am** _

I just found out that _Family Weekend_ is coming up, and everyone is trying to convince me to have Nikki and DJ come.

Part of me always has the urge to argue that they’re not _really_ family, but I think everyone knows how close the three of us are... The fact that we’re in a band, and have gone through all of this shit together... Yeah, they’re a family.

They’re a _special_ kind of family, and the staff here are very adamant about them being involved the way that actual families are.

I honestly didn’t even know that _Family Weekend_ was a thing that existed, but apparently it’s something that the treatment facility has every other month... I must have just been so sucked into my own distorted reality that I didn’t even realize...

That’s actually _really_ pathetic.

Anyway, since this facility really stresses the importance of having family and friends involved in the recovery process, they conduct _three_ full days where your family comes to the facility and participates in groups, sessions, meals...

I’m just gonna admit that I’m a little anxious about the meal part, only because it’s still really hard for me to have to eat in front of everyone here, even though I’ve been here for six weeks now. I still feel very exposed, raw, and vulnerable when I know other people see what I’m eating... How I’m eating... How long I’m taking to eat... My emotions during meals....

I don’t remember the last time DJ or Nikki watched me eat anything... Hell, I don’t remember the last time the three of us even ate anything together.

Apparently it’s a huge deal around here, because ever since Rachel told me, I’ve been hearing everyone talk about it... All of the therapists have been frantically running around the place trying to organize everything. It’s actually kind of amusing...

~ ~ ~

_**8:30pm** _

I am _really_ worried about DJ.

The whole time I’ve been here I feel like I’ve been left in the dark... It’s hard being here because I don’t know what’s going on outside, ya know? Nikki and DJ come here to visit, and we’ll talk on the phone, or FaceTime each other, but that’s it. I don’t see what goes on when they’re not here.... Part of me wishes I could.

I’m fuckin’ worried.

I’ve been worried, but now it’s just worse, and it only gets worse every damn day because of the things I’m noticing. More and more keep popping up and I’m starting to really freak the hell out.

This isn’t only about how DJ is acting... He’s not himself, and his anxiety is through the roof, but we know that... That’s not all anymore. Now it’s also how he _looks_.

I FaceTimed him an hour ago, and I felt so goddamn uneasy because you should have seen him... I don’t know... It could have been the lighting, but I really doubt it.

The dude looked white... Paler than he usually is, and I have a feeling he’s not sleeping well... if he’s sleeping at all. His eyes were glazed over the whole call, and I can just tell.

I _know_ that somethings wrong.

I’ve been wanting to say something to him for the longest damn time, but I always get hesitant... Tonight I didn’t... I tried to be subtle... I tried to make it casual.

_“DJ... Did you sleep alright? You just... You don’t look too good, buddy.”_

I felt like I needed to say something...

All he did was shake his head and smile at me.

_“Nah, I feel fine...Don’t worry about me, dude... You gotta focus on yourself.”_

I felt my whole body cringing, only because I know.... I know how easy it is to fuckin’ avoid being vulnerable and opening up. I know how easy it is to dance around issues, and move conversations to another direction...

I know all of it because _I_ do it... That’s all I’ve done this last year, and I’m still doing it now... I’m starting to feel like Nikki when he says _‘You can’t bullshit a bullshitter.’_ But that’s the thing... I’ve been a bullshitter, and I’ve done my fair share of lying and manipulating, so now I can spot those techniques in other people, and it’s _hard._

It’s so fuckin’ hard to see DJ using the same avoidance mechanisms as me. It is so hard to be here in treatment because I can’t do anything to help him... I don’t even know what the hell is actually going on, but I know it’s something. I know something is going on, but I can’t see it and if DJ isn’t open about it then how can I know?!

How can I even help?

I can’t... I can’t and it’s eating away at me from inside knowing that I can’t...

~ ~ ~

_**Four days later: Family Weekend (Day One)** _

I hate admitting how freaked out I’m feeling right now, but... I’m feeling _really_ freaked out.

I thought that the _family meal_ was gonna be on the second day of Family Weekend, but I must have misunderstood... It’s _today._

Eliza has been trying to help prepare me, but it hasn’t been doing much... I’m not even sure what the scariest part of this is... The fact that I’m gonna have to keep myself together while shoving food down my throat in front of Nikki and DJ, _or_ the fact that I don’t know what food I’m gonna be fuckin’ eating.

That’s right... Usually I choose my food off of the menus that I fill out for the week, but Family Weekend is meant to challenge you... None of us know what the meal is gonna be, so to say that everyone here has been having anxiety and low key breakdowns is an understatement. Everyone’s gonna have to eat the same thing, and that’s including the family members that come along... It’s supposed to feel like a family gathering that you would have at home, except....

This is gonna be a _shit show_.

I don’t want to just assume it’s gonna be bad, but I’m not feeling good about it... It’s the first thing on the Family Weekend schedule too... I’m not gonna have much time to prepare once DJ and Nikki show up, because there’s only gonna be fifteen or so minutes alone together before we have to go to the dining room to fuckin’ _eat._

I’ve been feeling so high strung and over-stimulated the whole day because of this... Part of it could definitely be because of my mania, but it’s mostly from the festering anxiety... I feel like I’m about to jump out of my skin because the unknowns are terrifying. It doesn’t help that my body dysmorphia gets worse when I’m anxious... I never would have made that connection, but thanks to Rachel, I’m becoming more aware of the triggers...

She’s said that when my emotions are intense, it’s my brain’s way of attempting to distract me from them... My perception of my body blows out of proportion so I focus on that instead of what I’m _really_ feeling... It’s happening now... It’s been happening all day and I’m feeling so unsafe and uncomfortable and _scared—_

“Eh hem.”

I hear Nicole’s humorous sarcasm in the distance, and I know that she’s standing outside of my door right now, but I haven’t even turned my head to face her because I _know_ I’m pacing around like a lunatic right now, and I _know_ I shouldn’t be, but I’m so fuckin’ nervous right now that I can’t handle just standing still.

I _can’t._

“Whatcha doin’ there, bud?”

Part of me wants to fuckin’ scream, _what the hell do you think I’m doing?!_ , but I don’t. I would never be an ass to Nicole. She’s calling me out because she cares and she wants to help, but man... If this ain’t the _worst_ time...

“You _did_ tell me you were feelin’ a little manic the other day...”. I finally snap my head up at her voice and look at her. “Just be careful, dude.” Her eyebrows are raised. “Don’t want you to get redirected by staff if they see you _not conserving energy_...”

I can’t help but let out a laugh as I shake my head.

“It already happened.” I can feel my eyes rolling in slight embarrassment. “ _Three_ freakin’ times today...”

It’s true... I’ve been constantly moving during any free time today and even started organizing my whole room here—

“It’s just...” My face is scrunching up in frustration. “It’s so hard to get myself to stop, ya know?” I begin scratching my neck because I feel so jittery that I don’t know what else to do if I’m not walking around. “Once it starts, I kinda just....”. My eyes widen as I let out a hitched breath.

“ _Keep_ going.”

I can see Nicole’s eyes widening as she speaks.

“Trust me... I know, man.” She’s giving me a skeptical look now, and part of me isn’t sure if I want to hear what she’s gonna hit me with next. She takes a breath. “I... I’m guessing this isn’t _all_ from the mania, is it?” Her brows are furrowed now. “I mean... You’ve been feelin’ like this for a few days now, but you weren’t _this_ high strung...” A playful giggle escapes her lips as she pokes my head. “What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?”

_So much shit, Nicole._

_So much shit that I don’t know how to handle which is why you caught me pacing around my room like a fuckin’ mental case!_

I immediately shrug my shoulders before staring to pace again.

“Nothin”

“Yeahhh... not buyin’ that buddy.”

_Well of course you’re not, Nicole._

_You can read me like a fuckin’ book for some goddamn reason, and even though I love you, I can’t stand that you see through all my freakin’ bullshit!_

There’s a long period of silence that’s making me feel even more uncomfortable than before. I don’t even know how long I’ve been walking around now, but I know I’m doing it is a pure distraction at this point... As if the noise in my head will just shut up if I keep moving... It’s honestly not doing a goddamn thing. If anything, my anxiety is getting worse but now that I’ve started, I can’t fuckin’ stop and I think this is just a lose-lose situation at this point.

Through the tornado in my head, I can still make out Nicole’s voice. Although it’s gentle, I can still hear the directness... The recognition... The _I’m pretty sure I know what’s up and I’m just gonna hit ya with it_ tone.

“You’re anxious ‘bout the meal, aren’t you?”

_No fucking shit, Nicole! Aren’t you?!_

I snap my head back at her for a second with wide eyes. I honestly feel like they’ll pop outta their sockets because of how tense I am right now. My brain is going in complete circles.

“Hey, it’s alright...” Nicole is speaking so calmly, but even I can see the nervous smile on her face. I know she’s scared as shit for this too. “We’ll all be tortured together!” She lets out a laugh, but I can sense the uncertainty in it, even though she’s doing her best to hide it. “We’re probably catastrophizing... It won’t be that bad...”

_It won’t be that bad?! What world are you living in Nicole? It won’t be that bad?! We have to eat in front of everyone’s fuckin’ family and we don’t even know shit about what we’re gonna be eating, but you’re saying it’s not gonna be that bad?!_

_Are you crazy?!_

“I mean... I’m nervous too... Not gonna lie...” She’s biting her lip now, and I could swear I feel her cringes, because I’m cringing just as hard. “But, we’ll get through it. We already have meals three times a day here, right?”

That last remark gets me to abruptly stop in my tracks. My whole body feels stiff and I probably look like a stoic statue right now. I can feel my jaw clenching and my eyes bugging out again.

“It’s...”. I squeeze my eyes shut for a second to try to alleviate my panic, but I realize there’s no freakin’ point. “It’s not the _same—_ “

I’m shaking my head with urgency, as I stare at Nicole, who’s shrugging her shoulders with uncertainty. I realize I’m probably making her anxiety worse by acting like this and I feel like a piece of crap... She hasn’t left my doorway yet though, so maybe she’s not that bothered?

“Do you like...”. I attempt to take a deeper breath, but I fail miserably, as I shoot Nicole an expression of uncertainty. “Do you get uncomfortable eating in _front_ of people?”

A strong look of recognition is immediately spread across Nicole’s face as she nods her head slowly.

“So _that’s_ what it is....” One of her eyebrows raises as she smiles. “You’re nervous to eat in front of DJ and Nikki?”

I hesitantly nod my head because I’m not sure why I even brought this topic up and I definitely don’t really want to open up about it but... I kind of _have_ to.

“It’s just.... It’s been such a long time... Since they saw me eat, ya know?” My heart is beating out of my chest as I start spitting out the worst case scenarios that my brain has been consuming me with this whole fuckin’ day. “What if I break down in front of them? What if I can’t even finish my fuckin’ food? What if they get ups—“

I can’t even finish before Nicole’s voice cuts through my head’s catastrophe.

“Hey, Hey, Hey... slow down!.” She lets out a playful snicker. “Your minds racing extra fast cause of your mania... It’s okay to be overwhelmed, but remember that we’ll all be there with you... We’ll have _plenty_ of distractions—“

She immediately stops talking, and I see her eyes widen with excitement. Even though I’m not fully present right now, I can still vaguely hear familiar voices at the nurses’ station, and that’s when I feel my heart skip a few beats.

_Fuck._

“Oh hey, look who’s here!”

The second after Nicole says that, I see Nikki and DJ standing right near her.

_Fuck. Jesus..._

My stomach is twisting into knots right now, but I do my best to force a smile, despite my debilitating panic.

“It’s that time already?” I feign a surprised tone, to try to pretend that I’m not totally freaking out right now. “Didn’t expect ya to be here this early—“

I can feel Nicole’s eyes burning a hole into my soul. She’s looking at me with a raised eyebrow, and she probably wants to slap me so hard right now.

“Uhhhh...”. Her face is screaming _‘You’re making your bullshit really obvious right now’_ and I feel myself cringing. “It’s 1:00, dude.”

I have absolutely nothing that I can say to that to make this situation less awkward than it is right now, so I just continue to dart around my room... Maybe I could straighten out my bed... Remake it? Flatten the sheets out—

“I see ya made a friend, buddy!”

DJ’s voice snaps me out of my brain’s anxious spiral. I dart my head up at him and see him giving me a big smile.

I answer quickly... Almost as fast as the thoughts running through my head right now.

“Oh yeah, that’s Nicole. She’s great!” I shoot her a wink, before eyeing Nikki for a split second. “Actually, she reminds me of you, Nikki! Always callin’ me out and shit.”

I force out a laugh but at this point I don’t even know if it sounded fake or genuine... I don’t know what the fuck I’m even doing.

A smirk spreads across Nikki’s face as he nods at me. “She’s got the right idea.” His gaze shifts to Nicole, as he and DJ shake hands with her. “Nice to meet ya!”

“It’s a pleasure.”

Even though I’m still stuck in my own world of anxiety, and way too focused on meticulously fixing the sheets on my bed, I can still see Nicole’s face through my peripheral vision.

“Well, I’ll leave you three alone now...”. I can hear her let out a giggle, before I catch her speaking under her breath.

“Your boy’s a little _extra_ energized... Keep him in check, alright?”

I’m not gonna lie and say I’m not slightly embarrassed right now...

I pop my head back up at the three of them, and see Nicole making her way out of my room. She gives me a wink.

“See ya in a lil’ bit, James!”

The second that she’s gone, I feel even more tension, even though I didn’t do anything... I just _know_ that either Nikki or DJ is gonna question me about how I’m acting... I just _know_ it.

“She seems cool.” DJ is looking around my room now, and I’m still here being a fuckin’ _weirdo_ because I can’t deal with my own emotions like a normal fuckin’ person. “Looks like you got a lot of time on your hands...”. He lets out a nervous, unsure sounding laugh. “You organized your whole room!”

My whole body is cringing up even harder than before because you should see the awkward smile he has on his face right now. He’s probably cringing just as hard as me, and honestly, I can’t even blame him—

I immediately shrug my shoulders and giggle, which just makes me want to run away even more because of how fake it sounds. “I mean... yeah!” I quickly start making my way to my closet to avoid looking into anyone’s eyes. “Figured I would use my energy productively—“

“W-woah there!”

I’m stopped in my tracks by Nikki putting a hand on my shoulder. He’s giving me a look that a dad would give to a little kid who’s gettin’ a little too rowdy.

“I think you might be expending a little too much energy...”

_Too much energy? Me?? No way! Why would you even say that?! This is totally normal right now! There’s nothing weird about how I’m acting right now... Nothing at all!_

I feel like it’s become so natural for me to mock myself but I mean... Come on! I’m ridiculous... Why am I like this?!

“I’m alright...”. Anxiety-ridden tension is filling up my body the longer that I’m just standing here, so I force myself out of Nikki’s grip, just to go right back to my compulsive pacing. “My head’s kinda racing... Just one of _those_ days...”

I can hear Nikki taking a slow deep breath, and I know that he’s not buyin’ anything I’m saying right now. He’s still remaining calm about it, though.

“Alright...”. His voice is so gentle and I swear, it’s making me feel like I’m a timid little animal who needs to get coaxed out of the woods. “Do you wanna try to slow down.... just a bit—“

“Nah, I think I’m fine—“

_Yeah... okay..._

I’m literally the furthest from fine right now, and everyone fuckin’ knows it, so here I am asking myself why I’m still freakin’ doing this.

“James...”

I turn my head back to Nikki, who’s just giving me a concerned expression. DJ too... Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they want to shake me by the shoulders to smack some rationale into my brain.

I just look at them with anxious, pleading eyes, because _god_ , just let me be right now... Just _please_ let me be...

“I- I’m gonna be forced to sit down for the meal in a few minutes anyway, so what’s the issue?

_Fuck_ , that came out sounding ridiculously desperate, but that’s how I feel right now.

In less than five minutes, I’m gonna be trapped in my own personal _hell_ and I know for a fact that I’m not gonna be the only one witnessing it...

~ ~ ~

The second that the three of us walk into the dining room, I could swear I feel my throat about to close. My eyes are widening, but I’m really trying not to show how freaked out I am right now. I’m really, _really_ trying.

I’m trying so hard, but I don’t think I’m doing a good job... How can I when all I can focus on is the fact that every plate at the damn table is filled with _Chinese food?!_

_Lo Mein._

_Vegetable lo mein that’s smothered in sauce that’s probably full of god knows how much sodium and a fuckin’ egg roll—_

_God... Oh my fuckin’ god._

My heart is beating out of my chest, and it feels like it’s gonna pop out of my throat. I’m already starting to feel slightly boxed in and I’ve only looked at the food for a few fuckin’ seconds!

“Woahhhh!” DJ’s voice cuts through my tornado of obsessions. It’s completely full of wonder and excitement, as he begins looking around the room. “This place is _dope—_ “

I let out a light laugh in attempt to calm my nerves, but also because for some reason everything DJ says just cracks me up, even when my anxiety is this high.

I can’t help but roll my eyes though.

“I guess it’s alright.”

As I’m waiting for the rest of the patients to join us with their families, I can’t help but notice the nametags at each seat at the table... Naturally, Nikki and DJ are sitting near me... They’ll be on opposite sides of me and I’ll be right in the middle... _Suffocated._

_Suffocated by my own fear._

I’ll admit that part of me is relieved to see that Nicole’s name is at the seat directly across from mine... Maybe it won’t be as bad with her right near me...

At the same time... I’m not even sure if her being here is gonna help this time...

I’m fuckin’ _terrified._

I still haven’t sat down because I feel like I can’t. My body is stiff and tense... It’s hard to even move it at all. The only movement that I’m probably capable of doing right now is running the _fuck_ outta here—

“Oh hey, it’s Nicole!”

DJ’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts for a split second, and I see Nicole walking in to join all of us. She looks a little nervous, but she smiles enthusiastically anyway.

I force myself to wave to her, and I bet she can just see the hidden terror underneath the smile that’s pasted on my face.

Before I can even say anything, I see the Program Director enter the room. A big smile forms on her face as she looks at everyone standing around the table.

“Welcome to Family Weekend!”

My heart automatically skips a beat, and I can feel the nausea creepin’ up to my throat.

_Oh god... It’s... It’s starting..._

“We are so glad that you’ve all joined us here today! My name is Erin....”

As she’s explaining what _Family Weekend_ is, and all that it encompasses, I can feel my mind beginning to spiral horribly, and now it’s getting hard to even hear what she’s saying.

“Psst, James!”

I turn my head to DJ, who’s giving me a worried look, as he subtly mouths to me.

“You good?”

_Uh.... no._

_I’m not ‘good’ at all but I don’t want to tell you that because I don’t want to make you upset so I’m just gonna keep pretending I’m FINE—_

“Yeah.” I force a smile, and the words come out a little too quickly. “I’m fine—“

I can make out Nicole’s suspicious expression from my peripheral vision... God _damn_... That girl sees _right_ through me.

“Well... I think that’s all I got!” Erin takes a seat at the end of the table, and raises her glass of water with enthusiasm in her voice. “Let’s eat!”

_No... god no...._

My brain is literally screaming at me to leave the room right now, but I can’t! I can’t fuckin’ leave. I’m gonna have to get through this and I don’t know how the hell I’m gonna pull this off without breaking down in front of everyone here!

_No, no, no, no, NO!_

I realize I’m still standing up, and everyone is just staring at me now, and _fuck._

_Fuck!_

Somehow I’m able to just push my body onto the chair, but it feels excruciating. This whole thing feels excruciating and nothing even happened yet!

I’ve only been sitting down for a minute and I’m already bouncing my leg up and down. I feel like a fuckin’ mental case, but I can’t sit still. I’m so freakin’ _anxious!_

That food in front of me feels like it’s taunting me... It’s just staring me down like a hawk, mocking me for being so fuckin’ scared of it... Of course, the more that I just sit here and stare at it, the faster my head spins... It’s _not_ helping.

I’m trying to figure out what’s freaking me out the most right now... Is it the fuckin’ Lo Mein that I’ve terrified to eat, or is it the fact that I’m gonna end up using _food rituals_ and embarrassing myself in front of everyone? Nikki and DJ have seen me eat weird so many times but... I shouldn’t _still_ be eating weird! I should have broken some of the rituals already by being here, but I didn’t!

I didn’t, and I already know that I’m gonna end up dismantling my fuckin’ egg roll like I’m performing an intense surgery—

“You know, she would make a _good_ stripper...”

I feel my eyes bug out as I start to make out DJ whispering to Nikki... I feel them widening even more when I notice him gazing at Nicole...

_Jesus Christ..._

“Do you think she’s a stripper? Maybe I should ask if she’s a str—“

“Uh... No, maybe you should _not_ —“

Apparently DJ isn’t fazed by Nikki’s stern fatherly tone, because before I know it, he’s reaching across the table and _oh my fuckin’ god DJ please don’t_ —

“Hey Nicole!” He’s talking so fuckin’ loud and I can feel my face flushing with secondhand humiliation... for Nicole, _and_ the Program Director... not to mention, _everyone_ here. “Just wonderin... Have you ever stripped before—“

I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to hide in my sweatshirt more than I do right now, in this moment... My anxiety over the food is intense enough, but now _this._

Even though I’m feeling so flooded right now, I can still make out everyone’s eyes widening. I can’t tell if they’re horrified, embarrassed, or entertained. Nikki looks like he’s stuck between trying not to laugh and resisting the urge to strangle DJ... It’s that _heckle and jeckle_ relationship they have... Nikki tryin’ to be the mature one, but still being unable to resist some of DJ’s ridiculous antics, even if he wants to smack the guy.

Nicole’s face is beat red but she’s cracking the fuck up. I know she was probably trying to hold it in, but she couldn’t... I’m surprised her parents aren’t having a fit right now...

I also can’t help but feel incredibly grateful knowing that Debbie isn’t in this room right now... let alone working today... That would be the absolute end of DJ ever coming here to visit... The absolute _end—_

But even though DJ acts like a fuckin’ child sometimes, I would normally be cracking the hell up at it.... However, right now I can’t. I can’t because my brain is too sucked into another dimension... a panic-fueled, distorted, fogged up but insanely hyperaware dimension...

My eyes have been locked on the goddamn food, and everyone else started eating a few minutes ago, and I’m still just sitting here... _analyzing_.

I know that everyone notices. I know that Nicole is probably giving me some kind of signal to start, or at least try to start eating, but I can’t even look up. I’m scared that if I look up at anyone, my fuckin’ mask will crack... I already feel a panicky lump in my throat and I _refuse_ to let it produce any tears right now.

_Not now. Not here!_

The two sides of my brain are arguing with each other over this pathetic situation. I’m saying _pathetic_ because it is! Look at me right now... I’m a _mental case!_

_Come on, James... You’ll be fine! Just pretend this is a normal meal here... It’s really not that different—_

_Are you fucking joking?! This is a thousand times more stressful than a ‘normal’ meal! What world are you living in, cause it’s definitely not the one I’m in right now!_

_James... What would Eliza be telling you right now?_

_I don’t know and I don’t fuckin’ care, okay?! I don’t fuckin’ care because even if I repeat whatever the hell she’s told me about food it won’t help me right now! Nothing will help me right now... so what’s the freakin’ point?!_

_You don’t know if you don’t try... You’ve said that other times and it ended up helping._

_God_ , that rational side sounds so gentle and comforting, but then the other side... That manipulative, delusional, panicked, irrational side... That side is screaming at me so goddamn loud... It doesn’t even matter how hard the rational side is trying right now. That other fuckin’ side just overpowers it!

It’s overpowering it, but I’m still somehow able to start forcing pieces of the vegetables from the lo Mein in my mouth... I have to start with _something_ , even if it’s this... Even if I’m playing around with the noodles... chopping them up... letting them swim around in the sauce that’s spread around my plate... _God_ , if this is what I have to do to get myself to be able to eat this, then I’m doing it...

I glance up for a split second and let my eyes meet Nicole’s. She’s eyeing the dismantled food on my plate, but I also sense her empathy... She’s not being pushy. She knows this is excruciating right now... Her eyes are comforting but _god..._

I’m _humiliated._

I can also make out DJ’s skeptical face from next to me... I know he sees how I’m eating right now and he’s probably fighting the urge to not scream right now. Nikki too... Although, I feel like Nikki was expecting this... I don’t even know what I’m saying any more. I’m too freakin’ flooded with emotions to think the right way.

I can’t keep track of time... I don’t have any perception of it right now... I don’t know how long we’ve all been in here... I don’t know how much time I even have left... I feel like at this point I’m just fully disconnecting from everyone and everything in order to get through this... If I was present, I wouldn’t have been able to choke down what was in front of me.

I did... I choked it down... I choked the goddamn food down, and swallowed, because I know I had to, and I can’t fuckin’ imagine the disappointment that Nikki and DJ would be feeling if hadn’t... They’re probably disappointed anyway because of the way I fuckin’ ate, though... I wish this crap didn’t matter to me, but it does... I’m terrified of hurting people, upsetting people, disappointing people...

The point is, I forced the goddamn food down, but now I’m just even more frozen. I’m feeling worse because I wish I was seeing things right now but I’m _not._

I’m _not_ seeing things... Everyone’s plates got taken away and now there’s a fuckin’ dessert replacing the finished Chinese food, and _oh my fuckin’ god..._

Any color that I had left in my face is drained away now, and I’m feeling sick...

_Why weren’t we told there was gonna be a freakin’ dessert?! As if not knowing the meal ahead of time wasn’t enough... They had to do this too?! Why?!_

_W h y ?!_

I know conversations are happening around the table, but I can’t focus on them. I can’t make out what everyone is saying, even though I know it would help distract me, I just _can’t_. I can feel Nikki squeezing one of my hands from under the table... I think he and DJ know I’m not fully present right now, but I can’t do anything about it right now.

I can’t because I’m just seeing tunnel vision at this point, and I feel like I can’t breathe, and I can’t even move, and everything is blurring together—-

Through the midst of the frantic shit show that’s going on in my mind, I can vaguely make out Eliza’s voice swimming through my head.

_“No food will ever hurt you as much as your eating disorder will...”_

The more I stare at the damn cookie on the plate with all of the chocolate chunks in it, the more disconnected and sucked into my cloud of distortions I become. Now, my whole body is feeling hot, and my heart is racing, and my head is fuckin’ spinning—

_You can’t fuckin’ eat that! You can’t fuckin’ eat that shit—_

Everything is so loud! Everything feels too vivid... The noise that my head is shooting out at me sounds like a piercing scream, and the lights in this room suddenly feel too fuckin’ bright!

_You have to eat it James! I know you’re petrified but things will be a lot worse if you refuse it. You’re gonna get marked incomplete, and your walk privileges are gonna be taken away, and if you just sit here and fuck up Nikki and DJ are gonna be so fuckin’ upset—_

It won’t stop! All I hear is fuckin’ chaos and I want it to stop! I _need_ it to stop—

_“James?”_

I could swear I feel someone’s hand on my shoulder, but I can’t move my head up from my plate. I can’t move my body at all! I can’t fuckin’ do _anything!_

Whoever is touching me is rubbing circles onto my back now and I’m just even more humiliated because this is happening in front of every freakin’ person here but I still can’t get myself to do anything about it!

_Just do it!_

_Put the goddamn cookie in your mouth and just fuckin’ swallow it! Just get it over with!_

My head is bellowing frantic pleads at me.

_You’re gonna run out of time! You have no choice so just DO I—_

I suddenly feel a huge rush of adrenaline surge through my body, and I don’t even think before I grab the cookie and shove the whole thing in my mouth. My heart is in my fuckin’ throat, and if I don’t choke on it, I’ll choke on the cookie instead.

My chest feels tight, my body is trembling but frozen at the same time, and I’m convinced that everything is about to crumble down to the ground right now... My life, my body, my emotions...

It’s the second that I swallow, that I’m told the meal is over, but I can’t even feel the relief that would have normally washed over me in any other instance like this... I can’t even explain or describe what I’m feeling right now, but I just know it’s too much for me to handle right now...

Everything is blurred... Everyone’s voices are swimming together... The lights are still bright....

I can make out Nicole’s blurred face from across from me... I can’t hear her but I can see her mouthing things to me...

_“You did it, James...”_

I’m not even aware that I’m crying, until I suddenly lift my hand up to rub my eyes and feel something wet. I don’t feel like I have any energy left in me at this point to do anything about it.

_“You’re okay....”_

At the same time... I do, because even though I’m disconnected from everything else, I’m still aware of one thing...

_“You fuckin’ did it...”_

The shame that I’m feeling is weighing so heavy on me... I feel stripped down, exposed, and vulnerable.

_Why_ are Nikki and DJ still sticking with me through this crap, when I probably just ruined their first meal they’ve had with me in months... I made this experience a fuckin’ shit show...

_I’m a piece of fuckin’ shit._

~ ~ ~

**DJ’s P.O.V:**

It’s hard to see James struggle... It’s really _really_ hard.

Sitting through the meal was hard, not only because I realize I probably embarrassed the shit outta James by asking Nicole if she was a stripper, which... _God_... Can I just say it now?

It felt humorous at first but now I feel like a piece of crap for acting like an idiot. Lots of people laughed and seemed to find it funny, including Nicole herself but still... What the _hell_ is wrong with me?!

James invites me and Nikki here to engage in Family Weekend and I just end up humiliating myself and everyone else. I probably ruined this for him, and honestly... Why isn’t he pissed?! I’m pissed at myself!

There’s a big part of me that’s frustrated with myself because I can’t get my crap together with the drinking... I feel desperate to somehow find a way to hide what I’m going through with everyone else, but look at how I’m acting now! I didn’t even drink a lot today at all... I didn’t, but I’m just acting like a fuckin idiot in public now... and I don’t even know if it’s from drinking or if it’s just because my brain isn’t working the right way anymore...

Honestly... I kinda wanted to make James laugh... I knew from the second that me and Nikki got here that he was not feelin’ too good... If you saw the way he was nervously pacing around his room, you would have felt a pit in your stomach too. I can guarantee that. I knew this meal was gonna be super tough for him, so I thought that if I cracked a joke or something, it would have helped... It did, for like... a _second..._

He wasn’t fully here... I mean... I just _know_ he wasn’t. He was trying to hide his anxiety but even I knew he was panicking inside. The way his eyes were just locked on the food in front of him... The way he was practically dicing and pulling apart that egg roll... Man, it was hard to see that, especially because he’s been here for over a month...

It’s not that I didn’t think he would still be having a hard time... It’s just that... Watching him eat in that way brought up a lot of uncomfortable memories for me... It just... It reminds me of when he was doing... _really_ bad.

Flashbacks of the day that I ordered Chinese food for the three of us on our first day off from touring just swam through my head... No one knew anything was wrong, but now I’m telling myself that I _should_ have!

I should have fuckin’ known something was wrong because I saw the way he was eating that shit that night! He was doing the exact same stuff... He separated his food so it wouldn’t touch... He chopped up the broccoli up into the smallest fuckin’ pieces...

I’m trying so hard to not get too sucked into my head right now, but it’s hard especially when the memories are just flooding me now. They’re flooding me, and so is the guilt that I feel because _fuck_... If I had said something sooner...

Maybe we wouldn’t even be in this fuckin’ situation right now...

James would be _okay_ , and we wouldn’t be sitting here in a treatment center... He wouldn’t be wrapped up in a fuckin’ blanket right now because eating that meal almost sent him into a full blown panic attack!

The worst part of this is that rationally I _know_... I _know_ that Nikki would be telling me what he told me when we saw James in the hospital...

_“DJ... Listen to me. This isn’t your fault...”_

_“Even if you did say something sooner, you couldn’t have stopped this from happening...”_

He would go on about how if an addict doesn’t want to get better; then they won’t. If you force them into treatment and they don’t want the help, then they won’t accept the help...

It’s hard... It’s so hard to remember that, because I noticed these signs but kept overthinking every fuckin’ thing I saw because I didn’t want to believe anything was wrong. I didn’t want to because that would be a fuckin’ terrifying reality... and it _is_. It _is_ a terrifying reality.

It’s a terrifying reality that James is dealing with this, and we’re sitting in his room in a fuckin’ treatment facility. It’s a horrible reality that I’m sitting here attempting to bring James comfort, but I’m also a fuckin’ hypocrite because I have mini bottles of liquor hidden in my jacket’s compartments. It’s a fucked up reality that we’re in right now.

The only part of this that makes me feel a tiny bit relieved is knowing that James _does_ want to get better... If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have pushed through that meal. He would have just said _fuck it_ and given into destructive behaviors.

He could have signed himself out of the facility by now, but he didn’t. He’s still here, fighting his demons every goddamn second of every day, and he’s somehow surviving.

He’s probably in so much fuckin’ pain that I wish I could take away from him, but he’s still here. He’s still alive, and he’s winning the battle between his fuckin’ mind.

Part of me really wishes I could do the same, but... I feel like it’s fuckin’ impossible.

It feels _impossible_ to get my mind to stop haunting me, because even with the goddamn alcohol it’s still doing it! Even though I drank, I’m still sitting here with uneasy anxiety because of all of the memories that got brought up for me today... And I’m not gonna lie.

If I was able to, I would run right out of this room and into a bathroom so I could drink... I mean... I _could_ , and I want to, but... I’m trying to resist right now because I don’t want to leave James alone in the headspace that he’s in...

I want him to know I’m here for him even though I’m fucking myself up... That doesn’t take away how much I care about him... It doesn’t take away my ability to empathize and hurt for other people...

~ ~ ~

**JAMES’S P.O.V:**

“Just want you to know how proud I am of you, James, alright?” I can hear DJ let out a small sigh from next to me. “I know that was really hard, but you got through it and that’s fuckin’ awesome.”

Ever since that meal ended, I haven’t left my room. I’ve been wrapped up in a blanket because it’s making me feel a little safer right now... My emotions were so intense and still are, but I feel the post-anxiety crash coming... It’s the _life sucking_ stage that I’m transitioning to now...

It’s really hard to be around DJ and Nikki like this... I feel so fragile and exposed, which isn’t fun... To add onto that, I’m hyper aware of every fuckin’ sensation throughout my body, which just makes things worse because all I want to do in this very moment is disconnect from it... I don’t want a fuckin’ body.

I _don’t_ want one.

I can feel myself shivering, despite the warm blanket and an extra sweatshirt under me... I usually get cold after high anxiety, but it’s worse here because of how cold it already is in this place.

The last thing I feel right now is proud. I feel humiliated and embarrassed because of how I am. I feel like a fucked up piece of shit... Someone who just constantly upsets and disappoints people... Someone who _hurts_ people...

Despite my brain’s intrusive flood of self-deprecation, I still force myself to answer.

“Thanks DJ...”

It’s hard for me to spit words out only because of how uncomfortable I am... I’m anxious but drained at the same time. I feel like I’m choking on my words but also don’t feel like I have enough energy to release them.

I really hate this.

There’s a tiny part of me that feels some sort of comfort having DJ and Nikki here right now... Even though I want to tell them to stop wasting their time with me, there’s a part of me that knows I need this right now.

I need their support, and I’m humiliated and ashamed about it.

“Is there anything we can do?”

DJ’s face looks like a concerned, sad puppy, and I feel a jab of guilt because I know it’s probably so painful for him to witness me this way, and I just hate myself more and more every time I’m reminded of how much damage I’ve done... To myself _and_ to other people.

“Do you need anything?”

_God,_ I know he wants to help so bad... But honestly there’s nothing they can really do right now. This sucks, but it’s not like I’m not used to it... I’ve _had_ to become used to it.

I attempt to breathe in, but it comes out sounding hitched which is definitely not helping the situation.

“I can get someon—“

“No, it’s alright...”. I close my eyes for a moment and shake my head, curling myself tighter into the blanket. “Just gotta wait it out, ya know...”

“Okay...”

His voice is hesitant and filled with uncertainty. I know he’s not buyin’ my bullshit. I can tell by Nikki’s face next to him that he isn’t either, but luckily neither one of them are being pushy...

“Just remember I’m here, okay?” DJ’s voice is soft, as he looks at me with concerned eyes. I feel him gently squeeze my shoulder. “I love ya like a brother, James... Hate to see you like this, man...”

I feel a pit in my stomach when he says that, because now that I’m not frantically running around like a nut like I was doing all morning, all of my other festering worries about DJ are bubbling back up to the forefront... Especially since I have his face in direct view of me right now... I’m able to pay attention to all of the details of his features....

_Dark circles... Pale skin... Hypervigilant yet slightly disconnected demeanor..._

Everything that made me feel sick during that FaceTime call is right in front of my face, but it’s noticeably worse... Or at least, it _seems_ like it is...

_Yeah..._

I take a deep breath and close my eyes.

_I could say the exact same thing to you, DJ...._


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I didn’t want you to start blaming yourself, James...” The compassion in Nikki’s voice is just making me feel boxed in. He’s leaning in closer to me now, and I want to fuckin’ run away. “You have to forgive yourself for the things that you did when you were sick... That wasn’t the real you.” His eyes are wide and piercing. “You didn’t cause this. DJ cares about you—“
> 
> “I don’t care if it wasn’t the real me, because it doesn’t take away the fact that I still did this!” I’m finding it hard to breathe the right way now, and I’m only able to let out a hitched breath. “He wouldn’t be having flashbacks and nightmares if I hadn’t done this shit...”
> 
> Nikki is shaking his head with so much urgency, and now he’s reaching his arm out to me. “James...”
> 
> “Please don’t...” My voice is trembling and I’m starting to curl into myself now. I don’t want to be seen. “All of the shit that he witnessed... All of the fear that’s instilled in him....”. I begin gritting my teeth, as the shame-induced frustration washes over me. “He found me unconscious with blood in the fuckin’ toilet bowl, Nik....”
> 
> I close my eyes and let the tears drip down.
> 
> “This is nobody’s fault by my own.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:  
> ***body dysmorphia/feeling unsafe in body, PTSD symptoms (dissociation, flashbacks, intense anxiety), mention of alcohol, mentions of suicidality, feelings of shame/guilt/worthlessness***
> 
> i've had kinda a tough few days but i ended up getting this chapter done early (since i had a big chunk of it written from the last chapter that i had to save for this)... so here ya go :)
> 
> still fuckin' insecure about everything i write but... might as well keep writing since i already started, right? (hate my brain sometimes... it can be a real ass shit)
> 
> hope you guys are having a good week, i'm here if u need anything !

**JAMES’S P.O.V:**

_**10:00pm** _

I made it through the first day of _Family Weekend_ , somehow... I still don’t know how I did it, especially considering the family session that I had to sit though... Boy, what a shit show that was...

~ ~ ~

_**Six hours earlier** _

“It’s so great to finally meet you guys!” Rachel is smiling so wide right now, and puts her hand out to Nikki and DJ to shake. “I’m Rach—“

“Pancake, right?”

I can’t help but let out a giggle the second that I hear DJ say that. I nudge him playfully on his shoulder, but it doesn’t faze him at all.

“You’re the pancake woman!” He’s sounds so enthusiastic, and I can make out Nikki shaking his head from my peripheral vision. “James told us _all_ about y—“

I can feel my face beginning to flush, and I immediately cut in to try to alleviate some of my own internal discomfort.

“Good things, Rachel! Only good things.”

“Well, everyone seems to be in a good mood...”. She laughs and begins leading us out the door. “Guess it’s time to find a room for our session, then!”

As we’re walking, I can’t help but still feel festering anxiety within me, even though that meal was a few hours ago... I’m dragging the blanket around with me because I still don’t feel comfortable enough to unwrap myself... I still feel very vulnerable and unsafe in my body... It’s just... not a good feeling, especially when I know I can’t be alone right now.

Despite my uneasiness, DJ still manages to continue distracting me a bit with his ridiculous remarks. I can hear him talking to Nikki from behind, and I can’t help but smirk.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if she didn’t even like pancakes—“

Rachel must have heard because she automatically grins with her eyebrows raised.

“I actually don’t.” She lets out a laugh, as she shakes her head. “It’s kinda an ongoing joke in my family. My parents would always make all of us pancakes and I eventually got really sick of them, so I don’t eat them anymore!”

DJ looks like he’s in so much shock. He makes me laugh because he’s totally a kid at heart and he’s not afraid to show it... That’s what I love about him though.

“That’s insane.” He still looks so curious, and I have a feeling he has more _important_ questions to ask Rachel.

Unfortunately, Rachel cuts right to the chase before we can avoid any longer...

“Well... welcome to your first family therapy session!”

“Even though I _know_ you’re not technically family...”. She pauses as she looks around with big, enthusiastic eyes. “I still think it’s really important for James to have you guys involved in his treatment sooooo....”

She makes one of her free spirited, almost airhead-like, goofy smiles.

“Watcha wanna talk about?”

There is a long period of silence... I’m too fuckin’ uncomfortable to say a damn thing right now... I’m still wrapped in the stupid blanket, and I feel like I’m eventually gonna be asked why the hell I haven’t taken it off yet... I already have a feeling that DJ and Nikki know the reason why... I know that Rachel definitely does.

She must know that she’s not gonna get an answer out of the three of us, so she jumpstarts the conversation.

“How was eating together?” I feel a small uneasy pit in my stomach as she looks at me. “You had told me how nervous you were about this... Do you want to talk a little about that?”

_Uhhh.... no! Definitely not._

_Especially not in front of DJ and Nikki—_

I can feel myself cringing. I’ve even more uncomfortable and tense than I was before, and the worst part of this is that we haven’t even been in this session for five minutes—

After a long period of awkward silence, DJ’s voice cuts through.

“I... I think he did great.”

He sounds hesitant, as if he isn’t sure if what he just said is allowed... Poor guy already got called out by using a _food_ word once... Today he talked about strippers at the family meal...

As much as I don’t want to look at DJ now because of how uncomfortable the discussion that’s about to begin is, I force myself to... I force myself to even if I feel incredibly tense.

“I... I could tell it was tough for him, but he pushed through anyway...”

It’s hard for get praises for eating... I know it sounds fucked up, because it’s supposed to feel good, but right now it doesn’t feel good at all... It just feels... _wrong._

“How do you feel hearing that, James?”

 _Jesus_... It’s like Rachel just read my freakin’ mind...

There’s no way in hell that I’m gonna be honest about how I feel right now... DJ would be so fuckin’ upset—

“Uh....l....”. I feel my body cringing harder with every word that I spit out. “It means a lot...”

I have a feeling that no one is buyin’ my bullshit right now. Nikki is giving me a skeptical look and I know he’s about to call me out.

I just _know_ it.

“How are you _really_ feeling, James?”

_Fuck... See, I told you!_

_Goddammit Nikki! Why do you always have to do this?!_

_Why??_

I can’t even begin to formulate a response to that before Nikki speaks again. He lets out a light laugh as he looks at Rachel.

“He’s not the best at taking compliments—“

I catch Rachel’s look of recognition as she nods. “We’ve actually been trying to work on that.” She’s looking at me now, and I’m starting to feel like I’m about to crawl out of my skin.

“I sense some discomfort from you right now, James. What’s goin’ on?”

_I just had to sit through a fuckin’ meal in front of a ton of strangers and probably embarrassed myself by practically having a silent panic attack!_

_I feel tormented in my body right now but I’m being forced to stay in this room with DJ and Nikki and you!_

_You’re seriously asking me what’s going on?!_

_You fuckin’ KNOW what’s happening—-_

Despite my head’s chaotic tornado, I still somehow get myself to choke out an answer... I can feel DJ and Nikki’s eyes on me.

“I... I mean... Yeah, I’m kinda uncomfortable right now.”

“From what?” Rachel is giving me her trademark _‘let’s explore’_ expression, as she begins prompting me with questions. “The meal? Your pals being here?” She raises her eyebrows in curiosity. “What’s doin’ it?”

_So many things, Rachel..._

_So many fuckin’ things..._

“Yeah...The meal...I mean...”

“Was it hard for you?”

Rachel doesn’t hesitate to shoot more questions at me and honestly all I want to do is freakin scream!

_No fuckin’ shit! Stop asking me dumb questions! I know you want me to open up to Nikki and DJ but you know all the damn answers!_

I don’t though... Instead, I force myself to continue answering, even though it’s getting really difficult to hide my internal discomfort.

“Yeah.... It was.... It was very hard.”

“What made it so hard?” She glances at DJ and Nikki before looking back at me. “Was it because you had to eat in front of these two after so long—“

_I NEVER SAID THAT YOU COULD JUST SPILL EVERYTHING OUT TO THEM RACHEL!_

_STOP!_

I feel so pressured right now... I hate being put on the spot like this, especially when it’s about discussing something that’s so fuckin’ _uncomfortable._

I can feel shame and guilt begin to eat at me as the words spill out of my mouth at a way faster pace than I want them to.

“Yeah... It’s been a really long time and I have trouble eating in front of everyone while I’m here and I didn’t want you guys to see me still eating like a _psychopath_ —“

I can’t even finish before Nikki’s voice cuts through.

“Woah, woah, James!” He lets out a laugh and smiles, even though I can still hear the concerned tone in his voice. “Did you think we were gonna judge you?” His brows are furrowed with empathy. “You’re in treatment. This is hard work you’re doing... No one expects perfection from you...”

_Yeah... Well I expect perfection from myself, and we all fuckin’ know that I’ll never meet my stupid standards because I’m a worthless, incapable piece of crap—_

I can feel a lump beginning to form in my throat, and I try my best to swallow it down. The silence in the room just feels deafening now.

After a few more excruciating moments, I open my mouth to say something, but it’s barely a whisper.

“I just... I didn’t want to upset you...”

My gaze is on my lap, and I feel too vulnerable and ashamed to lift my head up to face anyone.

I’m still able to make out DJ’s face from my peripheral vision. His expression is full of sadness which just makes me feel even worse.

“Why would we be upset?” His eyes are wide and his voice is so gentle... So small... “James...”. He shakes his head. “We’re not upset... We’re _proud_ —“

_Why the fuck are you proud?! I’m a fucked up, delusional, piece of shit who can’t even get my crap together to eat normally in front of you two after being in treatment for over 6 weeks!_

“Like, yeah... It was a little hard to see you struggling, but like...”. DJ is raising his eyebrows now and he’s speaking with enthusiasm. “You pushed through it! You fuckin’ fought whatever was in your head and did it—

_Yeah I fucking did it, but now I’m sitting here wrapped up in blanket because I can’t handle being in my goddamn body and exposing myself!_

_I’m a pathetic, emotional, baby—_

“Do you believe DJ right now?”

I snap my head up at Rachel’s voice, which is filled with genuine empathy. “Do you believe him when he says you didn’t upset him and Nikki?”

“Honestly....”. I can hardly get the words out because I’m terrified that I’m gonna upset them even more by being honest, but I continue anyway. “No...”

“So you think he’s lying to you?

_What do you think, Rachel?! Of course I think he’s lying to me!_

“What would DJ get from lying to you?”

I can feel my heart beating so fast, and it feels like it’s about to pop out of my chest. I feel too fuckin’ exposed and vulnerable... I just want to disconnect. I don’t want to have this fuckin’ conversation—

“I- I don’t know—“

I’m cut off by Nikki’s gentle _I’m not taking any of your crap_ tone of voice.

“Come on, James...”. His eyes are filled with genuine compassion. “I know you have a hard time opening up—-“

“I just don’t wanna go there, okay?” I feel so fuckin’ desperate right now... I didn’t realize how fast I choked that sentence out but I’m basically pleading right now. I feel like I’m boxed in. “I just...”.

My anxiety feels like it’s suffocating me... I’m getting extremely hyper focused on my body again, and now I feel another lump in my throat... and... _goddammit._.. Why here?! Why now?!

“James... What are you feeling in your body right now?”

Rachel’s voice is so gentle, and I know that she’s aware of what’s going on, but I don’t wanna go into it! DJ and Nikki are looking at me and I’m just feeling suffocated... I’m suffocated by my own fuckin’ body right now and I can’t do this! I can’t—

“I....”. My voice is trembling, as I wrap myself tighter into the blanket. “I...I wanna jump out of my fuckin’ skin.....”

My throat feels like it’s about to close right now. My body feels hot, my heart is racing, my stomach is hollow, and I can’t fuckin’ _breathe_ —

“I.... I don’t know if I’m allowed to ask this but...”. DJ sounds so uneasy and hesitant, but I know he just wants to help so bad... even though I don’t think anything can help me right now. He looks at me in the eyes as he continues.

“James, remember that night... It was like a few weeks before you came here... I helped ya eat that mashed up banana....”. His brows are furrowed with so much concern and I just want to run out of the room, but I’m resisting. I’m resisting so hard.

“I remember you told me that you felt like your body was changing and you were really uncomfortable with me hugging you because of it....”.

My body is trembling even more than it was before, because he knows... He knows exactly what’s happening.

“Is.... Is that what’s goin’ on right now?”

I can’t answer... I can’t open my mouth right now. I can’t even look at him. The lump in my throat is back and I’m just feeling more exposed every second that I’m here.

“If... if it is... I’m here to tell you that whatever your brain is tellin’ ya right now is _not_ true...”

The pain in DJ’s voice is so striking, and I’m just feeling more guilt because of how much damage I’ve done.

“It’s hard...”. I’m biting my lip, as I take a shaky breath in. “It’s hard to believe that...”

“I know... You’re doin’ the right thing though... You’re still here, continuing to do the fuckin’ hard stuff...

I automatically let out a hitched breath at his statement which just makes me feel more humiliated... I feel like I’m about to start crying—

“James...”. Rachel is speaking so gently. “What do you need right now?”

_Nothing!_

_I don’t need anything because I don’t fuckin’ deserve any comfort. How can I when I’m a piece of fuckin’ shit?! I’m probably making all of you even more upset because you guys are watching me retreat into myself like a five year old! Why are you even here?! Why did you even want to come here and support me?!_

_I don’t deserve this!_

_I need to get outta here!_

“James...”. I can vaguely hear Nikki’s voice mixing in with the thoughts in my head. “I know how loud the noise is... I know it’s probably spitting out complete bullshit...”

“You have a healthy voice in there too... It’s the voice that led you to make the decision to stay here and fight...”

“What do you _really_ need right now, James?”

~ ~ ~

I don’t remember if I said anything to that, because I think I ended up breaking down before I could... Everything just felt like too much in that moment to be able to do anything, and it was humiliating to dissociate in front of DJ and Nikki but... A small part of me inside knows that they weren’t judging me...

I’m just relieved that today’s over... Now I just gotta make it through the next two days and I’ll be able to say that I survived my first true _Family Weekend_ here...

~ ~ ~

_**Two days later** _

**DJ’s P.O.V:**

I thought that I was handling Family Weekend well without drinking... I really thought that I would be able to handle it, but I was wrong.

I was so freakin’ wrong, and I am so aggravated and frustrated with myself.

I didn’t drink... I didn’t drink when I was there with James, and I haven’t drank today either... I’m really trying to not run right to that because I know it’s not helping...

The first day was okay... I was doing alright. I made it through the meal with Nikki and James... I sat through the family session with Rachel... I was okay.

It was the second day when things went to shit...

There was no _family_ meal yesterday... Just a few groups... Some of them were just for the visitors, and others were with us and the patients. One was revolved around nutrition, and I think James’s dietitian, Eliza, ran it... It was really interesting for me to learn about the food aspect of treatment, and how the body reacts to food at first... _God_... The amount of physical pain James must have felt when he first got here must have been fuckin’ horrible...

When me and Nikki got out of that group, we hung out with James in his room for a bit... He was having a snack while we were in the group, so to say he seemed a little on edge would be an understatement. Of course, that heightened my anxiety a bit, but I tried my best to push that away so I could spend the time with James.

Things were still manageable at that point... The three of us were just hangin’ out, cracking a few jokes... James actually played some piano for us. He explained how his therapist, the _pancake_ woman, challenged him to get out of his room during free time, and to try to play the piano. Now he’s been doing it almost every day and that makes me so happy, but what made me even happier was just seeing how _free_ and _at peace_ he looked when he played for us... It was almost like for those four or five minutes, things were back to the way they were... You know, before all of this shit started...

Hearing him belt those notes and sing actually helped me bring the anxiety down a notch... It was nice. It was really nice.

However... It was when it was time for the second group that things went to shit. I wish they didn’t. I wish things could have stayed the way they were going, but it didn’t. Things had to fuckin’ crumble and explode in my face...

This group was with the three of us... Patients and their visitors participated. It was actually the _Family and Relationships_ group that we had that one time... The one where I fuckin’ said the word _cake_ , got redirected by the therapist running it, and may or may not have caused a bit of a scene... _Yeah_... It was _that_ group, but the topic was different.

The topic was _secondary gains of eating disorders_... Basically, this group really dug deep into the many layers... How eating disorders serve people... What people get out of them... How they’re not _actually_ about the food...

Nikki had told me all of this so many times over the last year, but it’s still so incredibly hard for me to grasp... How food is used to try to control other things... Nikki compared it to drug addiction... The food is the needle that injects the drug, but the addiction isn’t just about the drug... It’s about covering up underlying pain that hasn’t been dealt with.

The therapist running the group explained how a lot of times many patients with eating disorders also have other mental illnesses, and I automatically connected that to James and his bipolar disorder. James actually opened up to the group about that a little. He talked about how the bipolar swings are scary to control, so he might have used the eating disorder to try to make things feel more in control... even though things ended up being a lot more chaotic because of it...

You should have seen everyone’s eyes widen when he was speaking. I guess it’s just a known fact that James doesn’t open up about himself much... We were all really proud of him.

Anyway... I started getting uncomfortable once the topic shifted into the connection between eating disorders and suicidality... I felt myself beginning to dissociate when I heard the therapist say that the suicide rates of eating disorder sufferers are significantly higher than those without an eating disorder... My stomach started twisting up and waves of slight nausea began to wash over my body, but I was still trying to put on a front that everything was okay. I didn’t want to humiliate myself during the group, and I kept telling myself that if I was able to make it through the other groups that I would be able to make it through this one.

But, that wasn’t happening.

As the minutes passed, I kept feeling worse, because soon people started sharing experiences related to that...

_“Sometimes I think my eating disorder was a slow form of suicide.... A way to disintegrate until there was nothing left of me...”_

My body was getting cold, and I felt color drain from my face... Images of James in his deteriorated state lying on the bathroom floor started popping into my head, and the voices in the room began to blur together.

_“I... I was so worried about my daughter... I knew she was depressed, but I didn’t realize how bad... and I didn’t know any of it played into the eating disorder...”_

I was trying so hard to get the images away, but they wouldn’t leave... There was a huge part of me that was pissed at myself for not having any alcohol with me, but I knew that I needed to try to not have it... But... God dammit! It made things so much worse.

_“The eating disorder led me to do pretty impulsive things... and they scared a lot of people... Not only was my brain not being fed so I couldn’t think straight, but my depression caused me to act without thinking...”_

Even though my brain was feeling fogged up and I was drifting away from the present, I was still able to make out _that_ sentence... That’s when I felt everything crumbling down...

_“The torment in my head felt too unbearable... Sometimes I really thought that if I ended things, I would be at peace... I wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore...”_

Now it wasn’t just flashbacks of when I found James unconscious... No... Now, the terrifying memories of the night that he almost got hit by the goddamn car were eating at me... My whole body was tense, I felt nauseous, and my stomach was completely hollow. I felt like I was about to burst into tears right there and then, but I couldn’t! I couldn’t fucking do it there. In the midst of my panic, I still caught James’s look of concern.

I don’t remember anything else from that group... I somehow was able to choke out _“I need to step out for a minute...”_ without breaking down, and immediately left the room.

Before I knew it, I found myself in the nearest bathroom, curled up on the floor of one of the stalls... I didn’t cry this time... In fact, I was completely silent, but that’s only because I was so sucked away into another fuckin’ dimension that I felt so out of touch with reality... and my body.

I don’t remember a fuckin’ thing... I don’t even know how long this lasted... Eventually, I was able to drag myself up, but I felt so shaken up... I was trembling. I stared at myself in the mirror for a few seconds and took some deep breaths before I felt safe enough to head back out.

Once I made my way back to James’s room, I saw James sitting on his bed with concern painted across his face. Nikki was right next to him, looking just as worried... I kinda just stood there frozen, still shaken up from the shit show that just occurred... I still wasn’t fully there either, and I know that both of them knew.

They both knew something was up... Nikki already knows about my fucked up brain because he witnesses me first hand all the goddamn time now, but it was James that asked if I was okay. He sounded so freakin’ worried and it made me feel even worse, because he needs to worry about himself! I can’t have him wasting his energy worrying about me when he’s dealing with so much... I also just felt guilt and shame because I know the way I’m acting is just concerning him more... and I’m still too scared to just tell him what the hell is going on...

I didn’t know what to say to him... I couldn’t say anything besides, _“I don’t feel too well, so I think I’m gonna head out early... I’m really sorry, bud.”_

I felt like I was gonna choke on those words when I spit them out because of the shame that was swimming inside of me, but I just couldn’t handle being around anyone... I needed to just get away so I wouldn’t have to hide anything.

When I got back to James’s house, I didn’t drink... I didn’t do anything, really. I felt too emotionally drained to do anything, so I just sat in the studio downstairs... I sat in the dark with Rocco... I sat there feeling numb...

I couldn’t sleep last night. I didn’t even try to, because I knew if I didn’t drink I wouldn’t able to let myself drift off... So, I didn’t. I curled up onto the couch, wrapped myself in blankets, but I didn’t let myself sleep... I was too scared to.

I don’t remember when Nikki came back to the house. Everything’s a blur... All I know is that today is the last day of _Family Weekend_ at James’s treatment center, but I can’t get myself to go...

I just know I wouldn’t be able to handle it if I did. I don’t feel good physically or mentally today... I’m exhausted... I have a horrible headache... I’m nauseous... I just can’t face people... I know that if I went back there today it just wouldn’t end well...

It just takes a shit ton of work acting like everything’s okay when it’s not. It’s completely draining, and I just can’t do it anymore... I told Nikki that I’ve been trying to cut down the drinking, and that’s why I’m feeling worse... The anxiety is worse, and the memories are worse, and the hyperviligance is worse.

I feel like a horrible person for not being able to see James today, but Nikki told me that James would understand... He knows I’m not okay even though I haven’t said a word to him about it... but I know that he knows... He’s worried... He cares...

I just wish I knew why I can’t handle memories like a normal person does... I wish I knew why I have such intense emotional reactions to them, and why I can’t handle them like a fuckin’ adult!

I don’t feel like a freakin’ adult...

I just feel _fragile._

~ ~ ~

**NIKKI’S P.O.V:**

Being human can _really_ suck sometimes.

I’m always one to put the truth out, even if it’s not fun to hear, and right now I have to just say it.

Some things in life just aren’t fair.

I can name off a bunch of things, but what really sticks in my head is the fact that it’s impossible to make everything better for everyone. It’s feels horrible having to face the fact that a lot of times, you can only do so much for someone in a situation.

I always wish I could do more, and I tell myself that I’m not doing enough, but the reality is that sometimes you just _can’t_ do anything else.

It’s unfair that addictions exist... It’s unfair that so many people get their lives sucked away from them through a parasitical disease. It’s unfair that as much as you want to help the person, they will only get help if they _want_ to get it.

I went through it myself... I went through it with James... Now, I’m going through it with DJ...

He’s not doin’ well at all... He was hardly able to sit up this morning when I checked on him, and I know it’s because of how emotionally drained his intense emotions left him... He’s trying to drink less, and I know how hard that is... I know how painful things feel when you let yourself begin to feel things fully without avoidance or numbing, but I’m concerned. I’m concerned because he’s still dealing with most of this alone.

I was uncomfortable leaving him today, and even offered to stay, but he insisted that I come to see James. I knew James would understand if I couldn’t make it, but DJ felt so guilty, and it broke my heart. It’s not his fault that he’s going through this. No one asks for these horrible things.

I never asked for my addiction.

James never asked for his eating disorder.

DJ never asked for his PTSD.

We never asked for these things, but it’s in our power to ask for help...

It’s scary, but it’s necessary, and most of the time, the hardest things in life are the things that make the most impact.

They’re the things that you set you _free._

~ ~ ~

**JAMES’S P.O.V:**

It’s just me and Nikki today... DJ couldn’t come, and I didn’t expect him to, only because he didn’t look so good yesterday...

I’m even more concerned than I was before... I’m scared that it’s something bad, but he’s not being open about it. I get that it’s hard to open up, but I can’t shake my anxiety.

He left early yesterday because he said he didn’t feel well... In that moment all I wanted to do was ask him what was wrong, and what he meant, but I didn’t because I saw how anxious he was earlier in the day, and I didn’t want to make it worse.

But now... I can’t hold this in anymore. I’ve been trying to just trust that everything will work itself out, but how long can you do that for? I can’t freakin’ do it anymore.

I know I won’t be able to get anything out of DJ, no matter how gentle or indirect I’m being... I don’t want to push him. I don’t want to be intimidating. I don’t want to upset him, but I can’t handle not knowing. I need to know what’s going on.

I just can’t ignore this anymore.

“What’s going on with DJ?”

I feel an uneasy pit in my stomach as I force the words out of my mouth. I can already feel myself fidgeting on my bed, but I’m trying to act natural... It’s just me and Nikki here... Now is the perfect time to finally ask... Maybe I can finally get an answer.

“What?”

Nikki is looking at me with furrowed brows. I have a feeling he knows exactly what I’m talking about.

“DJ....” I take a deep breath, as I feel my body tensing up. “He’s actin’ weird, Nikki...”

I’m not getting any reaction from him and I’m starting to feel like I’m about to jump out of my skin... There’s no way that he doesn’t know what’s going on. He’s with him all the fuckin’ time while I’m stuck here... I don’t get to see what happens outside of here... I just see bits and pieces, but the bits that I do see are freakin’ me the _hell_ out.

I can sense Nikki’s discomfort just by being near him, and that’s only raising my anxiety... He knows what’s happening, but he doesn’t want to say it. That can’t mean anything good...

Even though I feel like I’m about to choke on my words, I fight my uneasiness and attempt to go with a more direct approach. I can feel my fuckin’ heart racing.

“He’s scaring the shit outta me these days Nikki...”. I bite my lip and just look at him with my brows furrowed. “You’re with him all the time... Is everything okay?”

I cringe immediately after I ask that because that’s a stupid ass question! I know he’s _not_ okay, but I don’t know exactly what’s going on, even though I have a bad feeling about it... I don’t have evidence or proof to confirm my fears.

I’ve been so fuckin’ worried about him since I’ve gotten here in treatment... The unknown is eating away at me and I’m scared that it’s what I think it is and I have no fuckin’ idea about it!

I keep rambling because I don’t know what else to do...

“I’ve smelt alcohol on him multiple times when he’s come here... and he’s not acting like himself. He probably doesn’t think I notice, but I do.... I just... I’ve been wanting to say something but I don’t want to ruin his visit...”

It almost feels wrong to be asking Nikki for answers without DJ here but... I just care too fuckin’ much to just ignore this and stay in the dark... I feel _desperate_.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Nikki finally opens his mouth. He’s giving me a look of hesitancy, and I can hear the uneasiness in his own voice.

“He’s... He’s a little anxious, James.”

My eyes immediately bug out, and I don’t give Nikki a chance to say anything else before the words blurt out of my mouth.

“A little?!” I can feel my eyebrows raising in exasperation. “He calls me multiple times a day and he sounds like he’s gonna have a panic attack! He’s walked out of multifamily groups looking like he’s on the verge of tears...”

I can’t even hide the pain in my voice as I speak. It’s too hard. I’m scared, but I’m also frustrated because I can’t get any information about this.

Nikki continues speaking gently, and I’m trying so hard to resist the urge to shake him by the shoulders right now.

“He’s having a hard time.” He nods his head in recognition, but I know there’s way more than that... There’s more that he’s not telling me. “He’s feeling a little vulnerable because he doesn’t want anyone to know he’s struggling—“

I can’t fuckin’ take it anymore! My frustration is making me feel like I’m about to explode, because I know... It’s so freakin’ obvious that he’s avoiding telling me details... It’s so _obvious_...

I’ve been doing everything in my power to not flip out... I’ve been resisting the urge to slam my hand on my bed out of aggravation... I’ve been trying to act calm... Being assertive is hard for me, but right now I can’t keep sitting here accepting these _watered down_ answers.

“Please stop dancin’ around this and tell me what the _hell_ is going on.”

I feel completely frozen immediately after I say that, because... _fuck_. That came out so aggressive...

_You can’t even control your own damn emotions, you piece of fuckin’ crap. Why are you even here right now?! Why is Nikki even in your room with you?! He should have just fuckin’ walked out already. He could be saving himself the aggravation and torture of having to deal with your fucked up ass—_

The only sounds in the room right now are the noises up in my head. Nikki hasn’t moved a muscle, and now I just want to run away, and hide, and not be seen by anyone.

At the same time... I _need_ to know... I need to know what's wrong.

I can feel a tiny lump beginning to form in my throat. The shame is washing over me as I force myself to open my mouth. I can’t look at anyone, so my gaze is on my lap... My voice is barely a whisper, and it’s slightly trembling.

“Nikki.... Please tell me.”

There is still silence after that, and now the tension in the room is so strong... You could probably cut it with a knife. I’m starting to fidget around again, even though I’m aware of how ridiculous I look, but I can’t help it.

I can’t keep sitting with all of these unknowns.

After what feels like an eternity, I hear Nikki take a deep breath in. It takes him a while to start speaking, but when he does, I can hear that strong uncertainty... The uneasiness... The hesitancy...

“He...”. I can see him biting his lip, which makes my own anxiety stronger. “He’s been using alcohol to cope with nightmares and flashbacks, James.”

The world suddenly feels like it’s frozen in time...

The second that I hear those words come out of Nikki’s mouth, I can feel my heart skip a beat. I can’t even move. My body feels paralyzed, and all I want to do is fuckin’ scream, but I can’t.

The words won’t come out.

All that I’m able to choke out is a strained whisper.

“W...What?”

My voice is trembling slightly, and my stomach is in knots. I’m finding it extremely hard to process what Nikki just told me, and I still can’t look up at him. I can’t or else I feel like I might cry.

“No...”

My face is scrunching up in frustration and guilt, and shame. I don’t want to fuckin’ believe this... I don’t want to because that’s what I thought... I had such a sick feeling that it was this... I just didn’t want to believe it, because _no!_

_No!_

Now I’m shaking my head with urgency because this can’t be true... I don’t _want_ it to be—

“No! Goddammit.... no!”

My frustration is starting to turn to sadness, and the sadness is turning to fear, and the fear is turning to helplessness—

“I... I mean... I didn’t want to believe it either, James...”

Nikki’s voice is full of pain, and I know he’s probably having a hard time revealing this to me.

“He wasn’t being open with me about anything, but I noticed the signs... It wasn’t until I went to your house one night to get my bass tuner that I knew...”. He lets out a sigh. “I heard him crying in his sleep... Found liquor bottles under the couch in the studio—“

“Jesus....”

My eyes are squeezed shut now, and my whole body is tense.

“Jesus Christ....”

All I can feel right now is the shame that’s weighing down on me.

_If you weren’t such a fucked up piece of shit then DJ would have never been in this situation! He wouldn’t be a goddamn mess and he wouldn’t be destroying himself because he can’t deal with the horrible memories that you caused! You caused this shit! You caused this!_

I’m trying so hard not to cry but it’s getting hard... All I want to do is cry. I want to fix this, but I can’t! I can’t fix anything because I can’t take away how much damage I’ve done...

_This is why you don’t deserve shit, James! This is exactly why you shouldn’t even be here right now, trying to help yourself! You don’t fuckin’ deserve it! You are a horrible person who just does horrible fuckin’ things to yourself and everyone around you—_

“Don’t start blaming yourself, James.” I can hear Nikki’s voice through my tornado of self-deprecation but I still can’t look up at him. “This isn’t your fault—-“

I immediately pop my head up, with angry tears in my eyes.

“That’s complete _bullshit_ , Nikki!” My eyes are wide and full of anger... Anger towards _myself_. “How can you say that when we both know very well he wouldn’t be feeling like this if I hadn’t done this shit—“

“James, you’re not responsible for anyone’s feelings or reactions... You’re only responsible for your own.”

Nikki is looking at me with such gentle, empathetic eyes, but I can’t listen to him! How the fuck can I when I know the fuckin’ truth?!

“I can’t believe you’re saying this.” I can’t stop shaking my head, and part of me wants to laugh so I don’t cry, but I’m crying already. It doesn’t fuckin’ matter. “I can’t believe you...”

“I _know_ this isn’t easy to hear... I was nervous that you would have a reaction like this, and that’s why I wasn’t telling you...”

_You should have just fuckin’ told me earlier because then maybe I could have done something! I could have tried to help him, or support him... I could have known what was happening! I could have done something!_

“I didn’t want you to start blaming yourself, James...” The compassion in Nikki’s voice is just making me feel boxed in. He’s leaning in closer to me now, and I want to fuckin’ run away. “You have to forgive yourself for the things that you did when you were sick... That _wasn’t_ the real you.” His eyes are wide and piercing. “You _didn’t_ cause this. DJ cares about you—“

“I don’t care if it wasn’t the _real_ me, because it doesn’t take away the fact that I still did this!” I’m finding it hard to breathe the right way now, and I’m only able to let out a hitched breath. “He wouldn’t be having flashbacks and nightmares if I hadn’t done this shit...”

Nikki is shaking his head with so much urgency, and now he’s reaching his arm out to me. “James...”

I immediately flinch and pull away. I feel like an animal being cornered even though that’s not what’s happening.

“Please don’t...” My voice is trembling and I’m starting to curl into myself now. I don’t want to be seen. “All of the shit that he witnessed... All of the fear that’s instilled in him....”. I begin gritting my teeth, as the shame-induced frustration washes over me. “He found me unconscious with blood in the fuckin’ toilet bowl, Nik....”

I close my eyes and let the tears drip down.

“This is _nobody’s_ fault by my own.”

~ ~ ~

_**Two hours later** _

I need today to be over. All I want to do is sleep and forget about everything. I don’t want to feel anything at all.

I don’t want to live in this body anymore. I just want to crawl out of my skin and to cut it open. I take up too much space. I just want to hide, crawl away in my shell and not come out - _protect_ myself. Shield myself from fear, sadness, hurt, hard emotions. I hate hard emotions.

Nikki left at 5:00pm, and things have felt unbearably hard since then.

I broke down at dinner and didn’t think I would be able to get through it, but Nicole helped get me to start eating. I couldn’t stomach all of it, because I had absolutely no appetite, and it’s hard to eat when I feel like I don’t deserve it... I ended up having to supplement with Ensure, and the battle with my head in that moment was so damn intense. I didn’t end up refusing to drink it even though that’s all I wanted to do... It felt excruciating. I just felt absolutely terrible. All I wanted to do was isolate, hide, curl up into a ball and disappear, and that’s kinda what I did afterwards.

I went right to my room and couldn’t get myself out. I hardly remember anything because everything felt so damn intense. I let myself cry and tried to process everything, but it was just so painful... I think Nicole came by my door to check on me a few times but I couldn’t get myself to move or look at her. I couldn’t face anyone or anything. I just wanted to curl myself into a ball on my bed, and stay there... _alone_.

An hour passed since then, and I’m a little calmer... not much though. My body distortions have been tormenting the hell outta me, and I feel like I’m trapped in a fuckin’ prison. I tried to journal about it, but it took a few attempts... I almost ripped the paper out multiple times...

_'...Need to rip skin off... crawl out of my skin, pick at it and pull myself out because I want NOTHING to do with my body. I don’t want it belonging to me. I HATE that it belongs to me. I feel trapped in this prison (body). I hate how much space it takes up. I felt safer as it was disappearing. Now as it is changing, I feel more trapped, more unsafe in it because it is getting contorted into something new - being messed with, played around with, manipulated - I have no power over it and I can’t stop it from happening. I am unsafe and violated living in this changing body. I am taking up more space and I don’t want to - I don’t want to be exposed. I want to HIDE. I don’t want to be seen. I’m humiliated and feel so much shame...'_

Everything just feels so messy right now. I’m still hyperaware of everything, but I kind of feel drained too... Almost numb. It’s the aftermath of the emotional intensity, but that shame is still festering... I feel shaken up from everything, and I just...

I know there’s no way that I’ll be able to even attempt to sleep if I don’t somehow get in touch with DJ... I just need to let him know that I’m here... and that I care about him.... and that... I’m _sorry._

~ ~ ~

**DJ’s P.O.V:**

**_11:00pm_ **

_“DJ... I... I just want you to know that I’m here for you... Its... It’s hard to see you in pain, and I don’t want you to be afraid to ask for help, okay? I wish I could help more, but I’m stuck here... I guess this is all I can do right now... Tell you that I care, and that you can talk to me, buddy...”_

I’ve had James’s voicemail replaying on a loop... It’s too late to call him... I know he had to give his cell phone back to the staff for the night, and he’s probably asleep. Just hearing his voice gives me some sort of comfort...

I just hate this... I hate the way I feel all the fuckin’ time now. I hate feeling scared and overwhelmed and anxious and disconnected. I hate shaking. I hate sweating. I want my heart to stop racing and my mind to calm down. I want to stop crying...

It’s all I’ve done today... Feeling intense emotions but being drained at the same time is fucked... It just makes me feel disoriented... And I’m pissed...

I’m pissed that I tried not to drink today, but a fuckin’ flashback ruined that for me.

I’m pissed that all of this is so fuckin’ hard.

I’m pissed at myself for not handling this better, because I’m _trying._

I’m _trying_ to be okay...


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Now I need you to promise _me_ something...”
> 
> I close my eyes and take a breath, before speaking again. My voice is barely audible, but it’s loud enough for James to hear it. My grip on his hands tighten.
> 
> “ _Please_... Don’t blame yourself for this...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO!!!! 
> 
> After four long months, I'm back to continue this story (no, you're not dreaming LOL, it's really happening!) I WILL admit that I am very uneasy about posting this since it's been months, but we gotta start somewhere, right? I'm not sure how often I'll be updating since I'm just getting back into this, so please bear with me! Just know that I plan to keep the ideas flowing... I missed this journey!
> 
> I want to give a special thanks to Fating, Armorangel (Kimmy), and Kabella for the ongoing support and help challenging my writing insecurities! (you guys ROCK!) -- 
> 
> WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:  
> ***ED thoughts, anxiety/dissociation, mentions of alcohol, guilt/shame***
> 
> ALSO: I would like to wish Fating a HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! <3 (I hope this is a good birthday gift for you... I know you've been waiting for this!)
> 
> Alright... on with the show! ENJOY!

**JAMES’S P.O.V:**

_**Day Fifty-One:** _

“I have some good news for you.”

Eliza has such a huge smile pasted on her face as she looks at me with excited eyes.

“Rachel, Dr. O and I all agreed that since you’ve been doing so well...”. She looks down at her clipboard, then back up at me. “We think it’s time for you to try out passes!”

My eyes immediately widen, but I can’t get myself to say anything... I can’t even get myself to move... For some reason, my body feels frozen in some kind of shock. My legs are planted onto the floor, and I can’t move my limbs from the chair that I’m sitting in. My brows are furrowing with slight confusion, as I look right at Eliza, who is still speaking with a tone of satisfaction.

“You’ve been completing your meals and snacks... You’ve been participating in groups... You’ve been isolating less... Your weight hit the _pass eligible criteria_...”

She’s continuing to list off the reasons why everyone supports the decision of me being able to expose myself to the outside world, but I’m having trouble processing what she’s saying. It’s not that I don’t understand her... Its just that, for some reason, I feel like I’m hearing her wrong.

_Does she actually think I’m ready to go on passes?_

Part of me realizes that it makes sense. According to my treatment team, I’ve been doing well enough for them to trust me to challenge myself outside of here... I must be doing okay if she’s suggesting it, right?

I’ve been waiting for the day that I could finally go out on a pass and get the _hell_ outta this bubble for a few hours, but now that the time has finally come... I don’t know what to think.

I’m trying to ignore the way my stomach is dropping because I know that part of being eligible for passes means that your weight has to hit a certain point. Eliza just confirmed that I officially hit that percentage... I heard her say it with my own ears and _fuck_...

I hate how my brain is latching onto that fact, and attempting to twist it into something that it’s not. Rationally, I _know_ that this is a good thing. My body has been working so hard to repair itself and this is a big deal that it’s finally cooperating and using the nutrients from food that I’m giving it in an effective way but _dammit!_ I can’t help but feel so uneasy about it...

It doesn’t feel right knowing that my body is changing... I know it’s been changing the whole damn time I’ve been here but just hearing that it’s at a _healthy_ enough point where I’m allowed to leave the center is making me feel some sort of way... and I hate it... I hate that there’s a part of me that almost feels _threatened_ by the idea of _progressing_ , because that’s what I’m supposed to be doing! The point of recovery is to slowly take steps forward in order to get back to the place that you were before all of this crap started, so being able to go on pass and seeing my weight improving are the necessary steps that I need to take! I _know_ that.

I _know_ that progressing is a good thing but it doesn’t feel good right now... It feels _wrong_. It feels scary.

I’m have so many mixed feelings about this... I should be happy that I’m eligible to have a bit of freedom from this place, and I _am_. It’s just that even though I’m excited, I’m also fuckin’ nervous. I’ve been stuck in this bubble, and in a weird way, I feel like being here became _safe_... I actually feel really fucked up saying that because who the _hell_ would prefer to stay in a sheltered parapet as opposed to the colorful outside?

It’s not that I would _rather_ be here, per say. It’s just that when I’m here, I _know_ everything that’s gonna happen, and this is gonna sound strange, but I almost don’t have much of a choice.

_Fuck_ , that came out the wrong way. I have a choice... I could have signed myself out weeks ago if I really didn’t want to be here... If I wasn’t willing to put the work in, I could have just left, but I didn’t. I’ve stayed despite how horrible and unbearable things have felt.

The point I’m trying to make is that being here feels slightly more _comfortable_. When I go into a meal, I don’t have to worry about portioning or anything... Everything is already prepared and it’s just put in front of your face... All I have to do is eat it... No preparation, no shopping, no obsessing over whether or not I know how to portion anything right... None of that, because it’s all done for me.

If I don’t eat, or if I use behaviors, I get consequences. I have the staff to hold me accountable... The privilege system is put into place for a reason... Privileges are given to you if you do what you’re supposed to, and they’re taken away if you don’t.

In treatment, I’m basically told what to do for the whole day. I’m given set structure, so I don’t have to figure it out myself. I have to go to groups, and engage in therapy, and meet with my dietician, and doctor... Everything feels set in stone. It feels comfortable because I’ve almost become _used_ to it. It feels comfortable because it’s _predictable_.

I don’t want to be used to being in a bubble, but unfortunately, that’s what’s happening... It’s a weird feeling.

When you’re outside, there’s no one to hold you accountable. All of the decisions you make are basically put into your own hands... Sure, Nikki and DJ could encourage me to do certain things, but they can’t actually _keep_ me from things... There’s no staff who can push consequences in my face...

I’m already having anxiety thinking about how this is gonna work. I’m supposed to eat on passes, but the food I’m eating isn’t gonna be portioned perfectly like it is here... I’m not gonna have Eliza by my side telling me how much I have to eat and how much is the appropriate amount. I’m not gonna know anything about the food either...

My head is beginning to spin because there’s just so many fuckin’ unknowns on the outside and I don’t like unknowns.

Unknowns are _scary_.

So many questions are swimming through my head about this... What am I gonna eat? Where am I gonna eat? Are Nikki and DJ gonna eat the same as me or will I be able to choose what I want? Am I gonna have to eat in public? Is everyone gonna stare at me? Will I have a fuckin’ panic attack in the restaurant?!

What if I don’t eat the right amount? What if I don’t portion the right way and end up eating _more_ than I have to? What if there’s nothing safe for me to eat? What if every fuckin’ option on the menu is terrifying?! What if I don’t end up eating _anything?!?!?_

_James... James... You’re beginning to obsess about this... You’re spiraling into another dimension that you’re not gonna be able to get out of if you don’t try to calm yourself down right now. You know how your brain works... Try to keep a clear mind. You know that you’ll probably get all of these questions answered. Eliza wouldn’t just leave you in the dark and have to figure all of this out on your own... She knows how anxiety provoking this is. She’s here to support you. You gotta trust her—_

“So, what do you think?”

My body immediately flinches at Eliza’s voice because fuck... I never answered her question and didn’t realize that I’ve been spacing out the whole time I’ve been in this room with her.

“I...” I’m trying to hide my internal discomfort as I force the words out of my mouth. “That sounds great...”

A smile immediately forms on my lips, as I attempt to appear as nonchalant as possible. I don’t want her to know that I’m nervous about this... Even though I know it’s her job to support me through this, I still can’t handle taking the risk... I don’t want to _disappoint_ her.

The skeptical expression that Eliza has pasted on her face is enough to give away the fact that she doesn’t believe a word I just said, but why am I even surprised? Everyone sees through me when I try to conceal my true feelings, yet here I continuing to... I just can’t help it.

I can’t fuckin’ handle disappointing people, no matter how many times I’m told that I’m not... I can’t believe them...

I can’t believe them because I _know_ how much I’ve hurt them, so why would they be honest with me? I’m a piece of shit... The least I could do is try to appease the people that I’m around, even if it’s in the form of pathetically attempting to convince my dietitian that I’m feeling completely fine about going on passes...

Even if I’m feeling the absolute _opposite._

~ ~ ~

**DJ’s P.O.V:**

_**Three days later:** _

Things have felt like absolute _hell_ lately. I have no other way to describe it.

I’m trying so hard to cut back on the alcohol, but ever since I’ve started things have been unbearable. I haven’t been sleeping at all, not that I was sleeping well when I drank, but at least I was able to numb _some_ of what I get haunted by at night. Now, I don’t have that safety blanket and the idea of closing my eyes at all _petrifies_ me. The only thing that’s been helping me through is listening to James’s voicemails on a loop... Hearing his voice provides me with a tiny bit of comfort, but it’s just not _enough._

During the day, I feel an impending sense of doom. I constantly have a horrible pit in my stomach that gnaws at me from the inside out. My heart is always racing so fast and I catch myself hyperventilating at random times due to unpredictable bursts of panic. Of course, the inevitable memories shoot at me... There’s no fuckin’ way around that... There’s no way to run from them now.

Drinking was safe. Without that, the world is unsafe. My mind is unsafe.

_Everything_ feels unsafe.

Nikki doesn’t hesitate to express concern every day, but the difference now is that I’m honest with him about it. Of course I would rather keep it to myself, but I just can’t take it anymore! Keeping it all inside has done nothing for me, but I still catch myself thinking that if I give in and drink I’ll feel better...

I _know_ I won’t. I _know_ that if I’m using it just for numbing it’s not a good thing, but I’m so uneasy, and I need to admit that I’ve fucked up multiple times already. I’m trying my hardest but sometimes I just can’t help it, and I run right to the liquor. Then I feel like the biggest piece of shit for giving in... Nikki constantly reminds me that it’s normal; that what I’m going through is horrible and excruciating, but that doesn’t make me feel any better!

I can’t shake the tension that I feel inside because James _knows_. I already assumed that he knew, but now it’s _confirmed_ because of the voicemail he left me the other night. I don’t need Nikki to tell me that James asked and he told him. I already have the answer...

I’m not upset. I’m not angry. I’m not even betrayed. That’s not what’s bothering me. I know James isn’t mad at me. He keeps on reminding me of that whenever he calls me. I know that he just cares about me and wants to help...

_That’s_ the part of this that freaks me out so much.

I’m terrified that if James starts worrying about me, he’ll start neglecting his own needs in order to focus on me. If he does that, he won’t invest in his recovery 100% and he’ll just spiral down... If he stops putting energy into helping himself... then.... then...

I don’t want to think about the possibility of history repeating itself, but it could happen! If James half-asses his recovery he could end up in the same exact spot he was right before he got admitted, and I can’t watch him deteriorate like that again... Please, god, I _can’t!_

I recognize that I’m catastrophizing and that I need to take a step back to breathe, but how can I?! It’s so hard when I’m constantly convinced that these terrible things are gonna happen!

I keep on silently repeating Nikki’s mantra; the one that he tells me whenever I start freaking out about James’s well-being...

_“James can care about you and still focus on getting better...”_

I’m just so frustrated. I’m irritated because I should be able to handle this on my own... I wish I could, but deep down inside I know that’s impossible and I’m trying to be okay with that.

I’m trying, but it’s so fuckin’ _hard._

James has his first pass tomorrow and I’m excited for him, but I’m also fuckin’ scared because I don’t know how I’m supposed to act like a normal, functioning human when I can hardly keep myself together at home around Nikki. Honestly, I haven’t visited James in a few days because of how I’ve felt, and I know he’s probably so concerned... I just don’t want to ruin this pass for him when I go... I don’t want him to focus on me the whole damn time... I want him to be able to enjoy himself as much as he can; to be able to embrace the tiny bit of freedom that he’ll get.

I _really_ want to make it through without drinking, but I’m terrified that I won’t be able to. I guess I just have to do what Nikki always says...

_Take it one day at a time._

~ ~ ~

_**The next day** _

**JAMES’S P.O.V**

_**2:30pm** _

I wish I could say that I’m more excited than nervous about going on pass, but that would be a lie... I’m fuckin’ scared.

Nikki and DJ are gonna be here soon to pick me up, and I’ve just been sitting with the anticipation of what the next few hours will entail. Eliza helped me prepare for today by showing me menus of a few restaurants around here, and pointing out possible entrees that would fit my meal plan, but I’m still so uneasy about all of it. Just the idea of exposing myself to the outside is nerve racking, especially since I’ve been trapped in a locked bubble for almost two months.

I also can’t help but ruminate over my concern for DJ. Ever since Nikki revealed the news to me, I’ve been feeling incredibly horrible inside and out. DJ hasn’t visited in a few days, but I’m not taking it personally because now I know what’s going on, and my heart hurts. I wish I was able to be with him so I could help more, but I can’t. I’ve been talking to him over the phone as much as possible, but it doesn’t feel like enough. I feel like the biggest piece of shit, and it doesn’t matter how many times I’m told that I’m not to blame; They’re _wrong._

“James! You have _visitors—_ “

My heart immediately skips a beat as I see Nikki and DJ walking towards my door. My perception of time must be so fucked up... How is it already time to go?!

I can’t even form another thought before I feel a pair of arms wrapping around me. I turn my head around and see DJ’s childlike smile. My body stiffens up at the immediate touch, but I try my best to hide that. I don’t want to upset him. He’s going through so much, and I can’t let my stupid body distortions fuck today up for him.

“Hey buddy...”

I give his Mohawk a playful ruffle, as a lighthearted laugh slips from my lips. Inside, my heart is clenching because I can almost feel his internal uneasiness, but I know he’s trying to put on a front for me right now. I _hate_ that he’s doing what I do... I hate that he’s trying to hide his struggling...

Before I can say anything else, DJ lets me out of his embrace and squeezes both of my shoulders. He has an intense, yet mischievous smirk on his face. I can see Nikki peering from behind him, shaking his head in amusement.

“You ready for a fuckin’ _awesome_ day?”

DJ’s voice is full of enthusiasm, and I wish that I could feel the same way as he does, even though I know he’s doing his best to hide his true feelings from me. He’s still a kid at heart, and nothing that happens will ever change that.

I crack a small smile to try to ease my own internal tension, but it’s not helping at all.

Guess I have to continue doing what I do best... _Pretending_.

“Yeah!” I grin, hoping that it looks genuine, as I begin gathering up a few things to bring with me, before walking towards the nurse’s station. “Of course—“

I’m stopped in my tracks by a gentle hand on my shoulder, and I don’t even need to look up to know it’s Nikki. I feel a chill up my spine.

“You don’t have to lie, James...”

My stomach twists at his words, and I immediately feel a jab of shame wash through me. I hate that no matter how much I try to conceal what I’m truly feeling, Nikki can _always_ see through me.

_Always._

I feel even worse knowing that I’m standing here lying right in front of DJ, who I _know_ is freaking out inside... God... I’m a piece of _shit—_

“It’s okay to be nervous. You haven’t been out in the real world for a long freakin’ time... It’s _normal—“_

“I’m fine, Nik.” I shake my head and give him a huge, wide grin, as my voice lowers a bit. “Please, don’t worry... I got this.”

I’m cringing internally at how habitual it is to spit out false reassurance, but I can’t help myself. I’m almost hope that by smiling I’ll be able to really convince myself that I’ll be okay... because I’ll say one thing right now.

I am _definitely_ not feeling confident about any of this.

~ ~ ~

_**One hour later:** _

Being in the real world feels... _weird._

It’s a good _and_ bad thing. The good is that I can actually feel like a normal person for a little bit. I’ll admit that I’ve really missed LA. Being out and about in my favorite city feels bittersweet... It feels comforting... It feels like _home._

At the same time, this all feels unfamiliar to me. Walking around outside makes me feel stripped down and exposed. I feel raw... I haven’t been surrounded by so many people in months, and I almost forgot what it felt like. I hate to be this person, but I’m terrified that someone is gonna recognize me... I have no idea what our fans have been assuming. Have there been rumors spread around about what’s been going on? Do they know anything? As far as I know, Nikki and DJ haven’t openly shared anything so there’s no way that they could have information, right?

To add onto that anxiety, my body dysmorphia has escalated due to all of the festering uneasiness... Rachel would tell me that it’s coming out as a distraction; something to focus on instead of how uncomfortable and nervous I am about everything.

All I can say is _thank god_ I have my sunglasses on me. I know they don’t cover much up, and so many people recognize me by them, but I feel protected in a weird kind of way. They’re serving as a tiny safety blanket.

I don’t want to sound like a downer, but the three of us have only been out for about an hour, and I’ve already caught my brain latching onto me in fucked up ways... _Manipulative_ ways.

Now that I’m not being watched by the staff, my eating disorder voice is sneaking in, telling me that being on this pass is the perfect fuckin’ opportunity to be sneaky... to engage in behaviors... to dance around things...

The rational side of me doesn’t want to listen. Of course not, because that part wants recovery. It wants to get better, but the other side overpowers it so often, and _way_ too quickly. I haven’t been allowed this much physical exertion in so long, and I’ve caught myself starting to overdo it multiple times, but I’ve been able to stop. I already know that Nikki’s noticed, because he’s been shooting me suspicious looks. The guy doesn’t need to use his words. With Nikki, just one expression speaks loud enough.

_‘I see you, James... I know exactly what you’re doing.’_

It’s just like what Nicole does. Sure, she speaks her mind, but her expressions say enough. It’s insane how much she and Nikki are alike... I’m still convinced that’s the reason why I felt gravitated towards her in the first place.

DJ seems like he’s in his own little world. Even while dealing with so much, he still doesn’t hide his true personality. His exuberance for life is so intense and I can’t help but smile while seeing him so comfortable being himself; without inhibitions.

Me, on the other hand; I feel so tense right now. My hands have been in the pockets of my jacket the whole time I’ve been walking. I want to loosen up, but I’m having a hard time. I’m trying though...

I’m _trying._

I can’t help but feel a pit in my stomach as I roll my fingers over the bottle of chocolate Ensure in one of the pockets. That’s right... Eliza made me bring it with me on pass to use as a snack since my meal plan is so freakin’ high, but I still haven’t touched it.

I’ve had no problem chugging a few cups of black coffee, though. _Real_ black coffee. The coffee that I’ve been deprived of in treatment, and _man_... I just gotta say, I fuckin’ missed that. I realize why there’s a caffeine limit at the center, but _damn_... I’m a coffee addict, and everyone who knows me knows that.

I _know_ I should have eaten a snack by now. I _know_ I shouldn’t be trying to get away with avoiding it. I _know_ that Nikki or DJ will eventually call me out on it, but it doesn’t matter.

I know all of this, yet here I am, doing _exactly_ what the manipulative voice in my head is telling me to. Here I am, being a fucked up psychopath.

Honestly, I feel embarrassed carrying the Ensure around because if anyone sees me holding it, they’re gonna think I’m some old dude in a nursing home. I doubt most people recognize it as a fuckin’ _eating disorder_ thing... and if they do... _Fuck_ , that’ll just be even _worse—_

“So... How do ya feel, _free_ bird?”

I’m caught off guard by DJ. He’s giving me a playful smirk with a raised eyebrow, as we continue walking down the streets of downtown LA. The sun is out, and it’s a beautiful day... That’s another thing that I’ve taken for granted; _sunshine_.

I give him a small shoulder shrug, and take a breath. “I mean... It feels nice, I guess.”

_Wow... Way to really show your enthusiasm. You know DJ is having a hard time but here we go... We’re really starting this day off to a great start, aren’t we? Fuckin’ asshole—_

I try my best to ignore the taunts that are shooting through my head. I catch Nikki smiling at me through my peripheral vision, but I have a feeling he’s doing some silent observing right now. He probably knows way more about what’s going on in my head than I think.

“Did ya miss the outside? LA’s been waitin’ for you, buddy!”

Every word that comes out of DJ’s mouth sounds so enthusiastic, and that’s just making me feel worse. I shouldn’t be feeling so nervous about this. I wish I was able to find the joy in this like any normal person would! I’m free from the center for a few hours! I should be _happy—_

“Yeah... I missed it...”

I crack a heartfelt smile, as I let myself take in my surroundings. I want to try to focus on the fact that I am being allowed some freedom... Why is it so hard to think about the positives when I know there’s so many of them? My brain just always likes to trap me into the darkness... It’s just what I’m used to... _unfortunately._

“Hey... What’s _thaaaat?”_

I’m snapped out of my thoughts by DJ’s voice, and I pop my head up to see him eyeing my jacket with wonder. That’s when my heart skips a beat because _fuck... Fuck!_

I must have been playing around with my pockets so much that I didn’t even notice that the Ensure bottle started to stick out, and now DJ sees it and _ugh god... Fuck... No..._

I do my best to swallow all of my uneasiness and humiliation, as I let a little laugh slip from my lips. “Oh... That?” I subtly push the bottle back into my pocket, hoping that he’ll forget about it. “It’s this stuff that my dietitian makes me drink every freakin’ day... Gets old after a while...”

My face scrunches up into a dramatic disgusted expression. Just thinking about how often I have to chug the stuff is enough to make me wanna hurl. DJ, however, doesn’t seem too phased. In fact, he actually looks _interested;_ weirdly _intrigued_.

My lips suddenly curl into a smirk, and I stop walking. Before I know it, I start pulling the bottle out from my pocket, making sure no one is staring the three of us down. I give DJ a playful nudge, as I eye the dreadful drink.

“I bet you wouldn’t try this shit—“

“Oh really?” He raises his eyebrows and grins mischievously. “Watch me—“

I can’t even say a word before the Ensure is snatched out of my hand and DJ takes a huge chug of it. All I can do is watch in sick satisfaction. I’ll admit it. I was hoping that he would want to drink it... God, I’m fucked up... I shouldn’t be doing this. This is _screwed._

The second that DJ swallows the chocolate liquid, he smiles in absolute awe, and hands the bottle back to me.

“Yo! This shit _slaps—“_

Its taking a lot for me to resist the urge to start cackling. I just don’t understand how some people actually _like_ that fuckin’ stuff. I shake my head in pure amusement.

“Well you can have _all_ of it!”

I’m just about to hand the bottle back to DJ, but I’m stopped in my tracks by Nikki.

“Don’t even think about it...”

He’s eyeing me with skepticism and his words are laced with suspicion... Of course I was expecting this, but that doesn’t make my embarrassment disappear; not at all.

“I’m pretty sure there’s a reason why your dietitian had you bring this...”

_Yeah... No shit._

I just laugh awkwardly, and put my hands back in my pockets, along with the Ensure.

_We’ll deal with that... later._

~ ~ ~

_**5:00pm** _

I drank the Ensure.

I chugged the remainder of what DJ left for me, even though there was no part of me that wanted to.

Naturally, I had the urge to throw the bottle right in the nearest trash can, but I fought my mind and did what I had to do, even though it felt... _wrong._

It felt like a total waste of an opportunity to listen to my manipulative brain, and that’s _exactly_ what it was. I know that Nikki would tell me something like that. He didn’t say anything when I drank it, but I bet he knew what was going through my head. He _always_ does.

The only issue is that now I’m feeling so incredibly uncomfortable. I don’t know if it’s about the Ensure, per say, considering that I didn’t even drink the full amount that I was supposed to... I technically got away with restricting, which of course is making my _fucked up_ brain jump for joy. Nah, the uneasiness is probably more about the fact that I’m sitting in a damn restaurant now... Yeah, because having to force rich chocolate liquid down my throat wasn’t enough; now I have to eat _dinner._

I knew this ahead of time... I obsessed over all of this since the day Eliza mentioned passes to me, and I’ve tried to fool myself into thinking that I wouldn’t be this freaked out over it, but now that I’m here it’s all hitting me.

I’m _terrified._

I’m not gonna lie and say that I didn’t take forever to choose what to order. Despite planning all of this out, I still caught myself obsessing over all of the possible entrees, and I’m _still_ overthinking my decision.

I’ve been sitting here with my own discomfort, but I’m trying to hide it because I don’t want to ruin this for Nikki and DJ; especially DJ. Now that I’m being forced to sit my ass down, I’m really noticing how anxious he seems. I knew he was anxious before, but it’s way more obvious now. He’s been pretty silent and that’s not normal for DJ... I know how much work it takes to try to hide what’s really going on, and despite me knowing it all now, he’s still trying to pretend he’s okay... and the worst part of this is that I _know_ he’s probably doing that so I don’t start worrying about him... He wants me to worry about _myself._

I don’t deserve to worry about myself! After all of the shit that I’ve caused, why the hell would I put extra effort into caring about my own well-being? I caused this shit! I caused this debilitating panic that DJ feels constantly, and I have no choice but to watch him suffer through it like this.

I can tell that he’s been sleeping even less than usual because he looks way worse than the last time I’ve seen him... His dark circles are so prominent and he looks like he’s in a fucked up kind of daze; a sleep deprived, exhausted daze.

Pure frustration is flooding my body, because I hate that I can’t do anything to help him... I hate that I can’t just _fix_ this for him.

_Of course you can’t... You can’t because this is all your fuckin’ fault that he’s dealing with this right now! Didn’t you see his face when you were drinking that Ensure?! He was probably terrified that you were gonna dump it! You keep on fucking things up, and even on your first freakin’ pass, things are no different!_

“Hehehehehe...”

DJ’s goofy giggles snap me out of my thoughts, and when I pop my head up, I see him tapping his water glass with a fork. I can’t help but smile, because just seeing the dude goof off gives me a tiny sense of relief...

_He deserves to have this moment, even if he’s acting like a fuckin’ five year old._

“James... You look so funny right now—“

I can only let out a little laugh because I know he’s talking about my reflection through the glass of water... I’m not gonna lie, I’m pretty amused by this right now.

Nikki is staring at the guy like he’s witnessing a little kid doing something so ridiculous and he doesn’t know what to make of it. He can’t even hold in his laugh though. I see him... He’s rolling his eyes but I know he thinks it’s funny.

_“Really?”_

“What?! Come on, Nik. You know it’s fuckin’ funny—“

DJ looks so shocked, as if he expects everyone to crack up over something like this. I just shake my head and give him a smirk. I wonder if anyone in this restaurant is even phased by his antics. Honestly, probably not. I’m pretty sure people have seen way _weirder_ things.

Scratch that. I _know_ they have.

I’m just about to take a sip of my own water, but once I stare at the ice cubes floating in my cup, a mischievous smile creeps up on my face. My eyes gaze around the restaurant, and once I make sure that no one is looking, I subtly grab one of the cubes out of the glass and _accidentally_ fling it at DJ.

“Oops... You look a little _wet_...”

I’m trying to hold in my urge to laugh, because I can’t believe I just did that. I never act like this in public. If anything, I’m usually the person who just watches everyone else’s crazy antics. I’m not gonna lie... My stomach is twisting a tiny bit now, only because it almost feels _wrong_ for me to be the goofy one... the _carefree_ one...

It feels wrong but I just want to take DJ’s mind off of whatever is making him anxious. I want his decent mood to last as long as it can, and if acting like a little kid can help with that, so be it. I’ve put him through enough shit.

I _owe_ him... _so_ much.

It takes DJ a few seconds to notice the ice cube on him, but once he does he shoots me an expression full of disbelief; disbelief and pure amusement.

“Ohhhh man... You’re gonna get it now, buddy.” He shakes his head mischievously, and doesn’t hesitate to repeat my action. Before I know it, I feel a cube hit me in the chest, and DJ starts cracking up. I catch Nikki rolling his eyes.

“Ha! Take that, _sucka’!”_

It doesn’t take long before the both of us are engaged in an intense ice flinging battle. I never thought that I would ever be doing this, but things change, right? I’m not even gonna lie... I’m having fun. This is actually fuckin’ hysterical!

DJ’s genuine cackles are so contagious, and every time a chunk of ice hits me, I laugh just as hard. Nikki hasn’t said a damn word, but his expression speaks volumes. He doesn’t look mad... He just looks like a father who doesn’t know what to do with his two rowdy kids, but he’s probably so fuckin’ used to this... with DJ, at least.

With me... I’m not so sure about that.

I can tell by the look on his face that he’s truly shocked by my actions, but I bet it’s great entertainment for him. He’s used to me pasting on a smile and containing myself, for the sake of appeasing others. I have a feeling that there’s a part of him who’s happy to see me come out of my shell, even if it’s by doing something this ridiculous... in _public._

I have no idea how long this goes on, but now my shirt is practically soaked with melted ice. DJ is still giggling like a goofy kid, and Nikki is continuing to shake his head at us. I’m just about to take a napkin and attempt to dry myself off, but the second that I focus on my shirt, I see an ice cube fly across the table...

I suddenly snap my head back up at DJ, and his eyes are bugged out. They look like they’re about to pop outta his sockets. A slight pit forms in my stomach as I realize what just happened... That ice cube was supposed to be aimed at me, but... it _definitely_ didn’t hit me... and if it didn’t reach me, then it must have smacked someone else...

I swear to god, my face must be beat red right now.

“Ohhh... _Shit!”_

DJ’s cackles are reverberating through the entire restaurant, and I suddenly feel myself wanting to crumble to the ground. I know I’m not the one who hit someone, but... _fuck_... I’m embarrassed.

_Why_ am I embarrassed?

Maybe because this might be drawing attention to me, and if people are drawn to me they might recognize me, and if they recognize me they might ask questions, and if they ask questions how am I supposed to answer them—

_“Seriously?!”_

Nikki’s voice cuts through my panicked thoughts. I see him give DJ a flick on the head, with his eyebrows raised in disbelief. “My god, I can’t take you anywhere!”

“Hey! He started it—“

He immediately points a finger at me like a defensive little kid, and I feel boxed in. I know this is supposed to be funny, but I can’t shake my own uneasiness. I’m silently praying that no one here is staring at me right now.

“Yeah, but I didn’t hit an old lady with it, man!”

I attempt to sound carefree, but I know that my words didn’t slip out that way. I force a smile anyway...

Gotta fake it til you make it, right?

The second that thought swims through my head, our waitress appears at the table with the food that we ordered... and I swear to god... I feel like I’m just about to _die_ right now.

I’ve only taken one look at my plate, and numbers are already flooding my mind. All of the obsessions are back at the forefront and I already know that forcing this food down is gonna be a complete shit show.

_Are the portions correct? Is this the right amount that Eliza told you would be okay for you to eat? What if it’s more? What if the menu was wrong about what’s in the food? What if the chef added secret ingredients when they cooked the stuff?! What if Eliza lied to you just to make you give in?! She could be lying to you about everything! You can’t fuckin’ trust her! YOU CAN’T FUCKIN’ TRUST HER—_

I’m already completely sucked into my thoughts, and the voices around me are becoming blurred... I hate how fast I transition into this state of mind... I _hate_ it.

I’m gonna try my best to get through this, but I already know that it’s gonna feel excruciating... I’m staring at my plate, but I can still make out Nikki and DJ’s worried expressions... I can’t say anything to them, even if I wanted to...

Shame is already filling me up, and all that’s doing is making my anxiety worse. I can’t fuck this up for them... I _need_ to suck it up and manage this... I _need_ to because I know that DJ is probably begging inside. He’s not saying a word to me, but he doesn’t need to... I can read him. I can _feel_ his internal pleads.

_“Please eat it, James... Please... Fuck! I can’t watch you struggle like this... Please try for me... James, please!”_

I already know those desperate words are swimming through his head, and my stomach is twisting. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and once I open them, I force myself to pick up my fork...

_I feel like I’m gonna die right now, but I’m doing this... I’m doing this for you... I don’t want you to worry about me. I’m okay, DJ ... I’m right here and you can watch me eat... You can see that I’m fighting my ass off even though I don’t want to, because deep down I know that I need to..._

I can’t force the words out of my mouth, but all I can hope is that he somehow knows what I’m trying to tell him.

I’m terrified, but I’m doing this, because I _owe_ him...

I owe him and Nikki _big_ time.

~ ~ ~

**DJ’s P.O.V:**

_**8:00pm** _

Getting through today has been so fuckin’ hard... I feel horrible admitting this, but I ended up drinking a little bit. I know I shouldn’t have... I know I should have talked to Nikki before I did, but I was so fuckin’ anxious during dinner... Seeing James struggle with the meal just brought up so many unpleasant memories, and I couldn’t control them. Of course, I couldn’t!

What else is new?

_Just because he’s cutting his food up, it doesn’t mean he’s going back to the way things were! Calm down DJ! Get a fuckin’ grip! GET A GRIP!_

I kept trying to tell myself that but it wasn’t helping... Seeing the way he completely spaced out into another dimension was terrifying, and he ate so fuckin’ _slow_... I didn’t think he was gonna finish the food, but he did. He did, and I am so proud of him, but I just couldn’t handle the way my mind was haunting me...

The second that we finished eating, I ended up excusing myself to use the bathroom, but I didn’t piss. I drank... I didn’t drink a lot, but it doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have done it at all... I shouldn’t have, and I feel so _guilty_...

James knows what’s going on, and I see the way he’s looking at me right now. He knows I drank... He _knows_ , but he isn’t saying anything directly, and it’s probably because he’s scared of _upsetting_ me or ruining the time together. His eyes are doe-like and full of worry, but I _can’t_ have him putting all of his focus on me!

Look at _him!_

The dude is wrapped up in a blanket, as usual... We’re back at the center now for visiting hours, but I know James is still trying to cope with the aftermath of the meal... He looks so shaken up, but I _know_ that he’ll just deny it if I say something. He’ll push his struggles away to focus on everyone else, but he’s distressed! I _see_ it—

“Buddy... I just want you to promise me something...”

I feel a gnawing hollow in my stomach as James speaks with concern laced words. His voice is small and fragile... _desperate_. He wraps his arms around himself in a protective stance, and I can’t imagine how vulnerable this must feel for him... The guy probably wants to curl up and hide... I _know_ him.

“Please...”. He lets out sigh, and my heart is cracking at the way his voice is shaking. “Please be open with Nikki... I’m not here with you all the time, and I care about you...”

A lump is starting to form in my throat... I can feel it... The shame and guilt is eating away at me, and I can’t stand to see James look so _sad_.

I gulp and take a deep breath, as I nod my head. My hand shakes as I put a gentle arm around his back, even though I know touch makes him uncomfortable. I _need_ him to know that I’m here for him. My voice is small.

“I _am_...”

My eyes close and a tiny tear drips down my face. I feel horrible for crying when James is the one who needs support right now, but I can’t help it. I feel pathetic and frustrated with myself, but I need to be honest with him... I _need_ to let him know that I’m confiding in Nikki... I _need_ to let him know that I’m okay.

“DJ, please don’t lie—“

“I’m not... I promise...”

I hear a crack in my voice, and that’s when I feel James squeeze one of my hands. I can’t stand myself for adding onto his fuckin’ distress. He’s dealing with enough already, but now he’s worrying about me...

He doesn’t _need_ all of this shit to carry around!

James lets out another soft sigh, and I hear him sniffle. My heart is breaking. I feel like someone stabbed me and now everything is gushing out. I squeeze his hand back, hoping it’ll provide him some comfort... comfort that he desperately _needs_.

“James...”

I’m looking at him with wide eyes, like a little kid would. He turns his head to face me, and that’s when I release my arm from his back so I can squeeze both of his hands.

“Now I need you to promise _me_ something...”

I close my eyes and take a breath, before speaking again. My voice is barely audible, but it’s loud enough for James to hear it. My grip on his hands tighten.

“ _Please_... Don’t blame yourself for this...”

I fight back the tears that are threatening to fall down my face, as I look James right in the eyes. He looks like a deer in headlights, and I know that my words must have hit a nerve in him...

There is silence after that, and all I hear is the sound of the clock ticking on the wall. I haven’t let go of James’s hand, and I can feel his fingers shaking. I hate that no words are being spoken... I hate it because I _know_...

I _know_ that’s exactly what he’s doing.

_It’s not your fault, James... I just need you to believe me..._

As much as I want it in my heart and soul, I know it’s not gonna happen.

He’ll _never_ believe me.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!! 
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment and let me know what you think! I'm so excited for you to continue this crazy journey with me and thanks for the support!
> 
> If you have any questions please feel free to ask because I am MORE than happy to answer!!!!


End file.
